


Soul Stealer

by DraketheDragon



Series: Blackcat Stories [1]
Category: Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: ALSO rated for self harm, BEN IS FOURTH, Characters may be a little out of character, Devil and Angle friendship, Gen, Gosh thats a lot of characters, HONEY IS THIRD, I Tried, Multiple Personality dissorder is fun, Plently of awsome show references, Rated for Violence and Swearing, Tags May Change, They aren't that bad, WARREN IS SECOND, Yes this has ocs, also, and book references, can't belive I almost forgot that, except not really swearing because I'm not as creative a swearer as Ben, ish, no, not going to start looking up examples of swearing, wait its not, when you are thirteen and your best friend who's an ancient murder monster has never seen star wars, you know its bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-02-07 13:56:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18622003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraketheDragon/pseuds/DraketheDragon
Summary: "Logan pulled on a strand of his hair thoughtfully. 'It wasn’t me. It was Blackcat, and I trust Blackcat’s judgment. She knew it was the killer because the body had no soul. I’m not talking about dying, and then the soul leaving the body, but about the soul being removed before the body died.' His tone was solemn.'How is that possible?' Honey asked. It was a good question. Necromancers can use ghosts to power themselves up, I could somewhat control the dead. I’d never heard of anything taking the soul out of the body before death before.Logan tapped the table. 'I’m not sure.'"





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter updates will be sporadic, and Comments and Kudos are appreciated. Enjoy!

Blackcat

I leaned back into my chair and stuck my feet onto Logan’s oak table, sipping my heated milk and listening to the sounds outside. The rain pattered steadily on the roof, and cars zipped by on the road. Even at twelve o'clock at night, some random people walked carefully on the streets. _ Easy prey. _ I shook my head slightly. Not today, you had your day yesterday, I told my Other. Yesterday had been the full moon, and I was still feeling the side effects, with the Other still strong in my mind.

_ We could walk into his room and break his neck. It would be so easy, I would even make it painless.  _ The Other whispered.

**Shut up!! You will not hurt him!** Cried my Cat, back after her day of rest. I set my cup down gently, and then dug my fingers into my arm till I broke the skin, carefully keeping my mind blank while listening to the Other and my Cat argue. Nights after the full moon where fun, with me being unable to sleep for the fear that I would wake up with blood covered hands.

A change in the air alerted me to the disturbance of one of the other inhabitants of the house. A quickening of both pulse and breath. Jacob. I stood, grabbed a glass, and poured half of my warm milk into it. Then I left the kitchen, footsteps silent on the creaky wooden floor. I continued down the hallway and stopped in front of his door, taking a deep breath to ground myself. The force of his fear hit me like a wave and I froze with torn emotions. 

_ He’s afraid of you.  _ Said the Other smugly. 

**No, he’s not. He doesn’t have the sense to be afraid of us.** My Cat shot back. She was right, the only time he was terrified was when he had his nightmares. Which didn’t make sense, because I was way more terrifying than any nightmare. Than again, if he had been afraid of me, I would have killed him already. So I didn’t bother Jacob when he was terrified by his dreams.

Jacob and terrified, two words that should of never belonged in a sentence together. Unless that sentence was Jacob was not terrified, or Jacob terrified me.

He was awake, the pounding of his heart had settled slightly and his breaths shook with quiet sobs. I shook of my paralyzation and pushed open his door with my foot. He looked up from where he was curled up on his bed, tears on his cheeks. “Blackcat?” His voice wavered when he spoke and my heart broke to hear the remains of fear. I would rip open the chest of the creature who had scared him so, even if that creature was only in dreams.

“Hey there, little cub. Bad dreams?” I stepped in and maneuvered around the clutter to sit beside him, handing him one of the cups. This close his sent hit me, fae, with the smell of smoke and bitter magic. Even in the complete darkness I could make out his features. Round face with smooth brown skin, speckled with pale freckles, and surrounded with a curly halo of golden-brown hair. His dark blue eyes wouldn’t look at me, but he took his cup and played with it. “What was it this time?”

His voice came hesitantly, thick with the remains of fear, even though his pulse had calmed when I had walked in. Jacob was the only person I knew who was ever relieved to see me. “I was running, and there was this thing chasing me. The same thing. I was going to kill me Blackcat!” He looked at me with those wide eyes as his pulse started to skyrocket. I shoved down the pleasure at feeling the fear batter at me.

“Details,” I murmured, and took a sip of my milk, ignoring the laughter in the back of my mind and the guilt stirring in my stomach. I was a monster. I needed to leave before I killed him.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “It was warm, and at night. It wasn’t raining.” So the death wouldn’t be tonight. Good to know. “I wasn’t alone.” His eyes snapped open and focused on me, gleaming slightly and the sent of fae swelling suddenly. His voice went syrupy sweet and he spoke as if multiple people spoke through him. “Wolf. Red wolf. Run. Run. Run run runrunrunrunrunrunrunrun . . .” His voice trailed of into a silent wail and he jerked forward and pressed his face into my shoulder. I froze, torn between ripping out his throat and hugging him. Slowly he collected himself and pulled back to stare at me. “When can you go hunting?”

I knew what he meant. “I can’t,” I said flatly, “the local alpha has refused my requests.” He knew I was a predator, though he didn’t what type. If I hunted without his permission, he would hunt me down to kill me, and then I would kill him and everyone else in this city. I looked down at Jacob, such a fragile thing, for all his fae blood. “You need to sleep, drink your milk.”

He took a sullen sip, then another. Soon the cup was empty. Good, it would make him sleepy.  I downed the rest of mine, took his cup, and set them on the bedside table. “I’m not tired,” he sulked.

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re afraid of more dreams.” I stated, then sighed. Getting Jacob to do something he didn’t want to do was impossible. “Fine, we’ll watch something.” I flopped fully onto his bed and picked up the remote. Jacob got a TV in his room, because his dreams often made it hard for him to sleep. He claimed the background noise helped.

He looked at me hopefully. “Star Wars Rebels?” We were currently in the fourth season.

I smirked. “Nope, current plot line is too dark. And not Gargoyles either, we’re going to watch something a little more light hearted.” Then with a sinking stomach and a happy heart I put on Pokemon: Sun and Moon. The voices screwed right through my head, but for Jacob the pain was worth it.

And when he fell asleep again? Well, I would take a walk and see what I could find. Perhaps I would get lucky and find the one give Jacob his nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

Mercy

Tony greeted us as we hopped out of the car. His face was lined with worry and exhaustion. That would of worried me more if I hadn’t known there was only one body, though on the phone Tony had said it was pretty bad. “Hey Mercy,” he sad, then looked at Ben, who was my guard for today, “Hello.”

I waved a hand in Ben’s direction and said before he could say something we would both regret. “This is Ben, he’s out as a wolf.”

Tony nodded slowly. “I remember, IT wolf, right?”

Ben caught my stare and gritted out, “Yes.”

“Where’s the body?” I asked before he could say more. Tony hadn’t had to deal with Ben yet, and he looked too exhausted to deal with him now. 

Tony’s shoulders slumped and he started walking. “This way.”

“You called us in why?” Ben asked, voice crisp with his english accent.

“Because it may be supernatural, but we can’t tell. Also, them.” He waved his hand at two Cantrip goons that lurked nearby. “They want it to be supernatural. I would prefer to deal with something that's not supernatural.” He lead us straight toward the body, and we ignored the Cantrip goons as they started to move in our direction. Probably to be as annoying and efficient as cheap villains in a cartoon.

Tony had been understating when he said it wasn’t pretty. The body was mangled, cut up so much that it was almost impossible to tell that it had been human in the first place. The dirt around it had turned black with blood, and the air carried the scent of death and fear. I have good nose, but I couldn’t separate any other scents under the fear and blood. Ben made a small noise as I struggled to not throw up. “It’s not werewolf.” He said, when I looked at him his face was pale. Well, paler than usual.

“Oh, and why not?” Shot one of the Cantrip goons, his face twisted in a sneer.

“If it was a fucking werewolf, this guy would be eaten.” Ben shot back just as quick. The other Cantrip goon opened her mouth to speak, but the roar of an engine stopped her. 

I had heard the engine earlier, but had hoped on the faint possibility that it was a passerby. It wasn’t. It was a big, black, SUV with tinted windows that practically screamed federal agent. Despite its speed, it stopped neatly beside Ben’s truck, and the brakes didn’t even screech. Impressive, if not good on the brakes. A woman hopped out of the drivers side, tiny compared to the car. She was curvy, with her dark blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and she had pale blue eyes that gleamed with good humor. She started walking towards us, her suit and no nonsence stride providing more evidence that she was from the government.

“Hey,” cried Cantrip goon number two, “This is an investigation no civilians all-” Her voice trailed into a whimper as the second woman climbed out of the passenger side door. She shot the idea that they were government into little bits, because the government didn’t hire six-foot tall, native american women with braids that fell to their kneecaps and looked like they had been fed to a meat grinder, survived, then fed their assailant into the same meat grinder. She wore a gray tee-shirt that had giant armholes ripped into it, dark grey sweatpants, sandals, wrap around shades, and an air that screamed predator. For all that her smooth gait said she was wary and ready to move, she was slumped with her hands thrust deep in her pockets.

The blonde one stopped when she came closer, grinned, and flipped open her wallet. The badge sat there, large and imposing. Maybe they were government. Ben and I exchanged looks, government was bad. “Logan Altendorf, FBI.” Her voice was heavy with an german accent. “The scary one is my partner, Samantha Blackcat. We are here to check out the crime scene.”

“Why are the Feds interested?” Tony asked, suddenly wary.

Agent Altendorf’s grin fell. “Because over the past month, murders have been popping up all over the country, and the MO is the same. So the FBI have been sent everywhere to investigate any brutal murder in order to help track down the killer. The FBI here requested help, and we were sent.” Agent Blackcat brushed past us all and glided towards the body. Tony made a slight noise. Agent Altendorf noticed and assured, “Blackcat’s the best at what she does. She won’t disturb the crime scene.” She turned abruptly towards the Cantrip goons. “What are you doing here.” The words were an accusation, not a question.  


Ben and I exchanged a glance, then I turned to watch Agent Blackcat and he turned to watch Agent Altendorf. Close up Agent Blackcat looked even  more terrifying. She had that thinly veiled air of humanity that only very old, very dangerous creatures have, yet she didn’t smell anything but human. This close I could make out individual scars from the rest. There was one that caught the corner of her mouth and disappeared behind the glasses, giving her a permanent sneer and gave me a glimpse of bright white teeth. She had another that crossed her throat and traveled down and onto her shoulder. That looked fatal. So did the ones that went from the inside of her elbow to the wrist. Not like it was done with a knife, but something jagged that didn’t cut cleanly. 

She crouched beside the bloodied dirt, and something in her demeanor changed. “Cantrip is supposed to investigate any supernatural dealing.” Cantrip goon number one shot out.

“This death isn’t supernatural.” Agent Altendorf lied. I turned from Agent Blackcat to look at her. This close I could smell her, and she smelled of fae. Not powerful, and fae couldn’t lie, so the had to be half fae. Anyway, she lied very well, with both body and voice. She gripped the Cantrip goons gently by the arms and guided them away with skill. There was the faintest whiff of magic.

Tony turned around to stare at Agent Blackcat, who hadn’t moved as her half-fae partner dealt with the Cantrip goons. Ben shot me a glance, then aimed a glare at the scarred women. So he couldn’t get past the smell of human either, weird. “Well?” Tony asked.

Agent Blackcat spoke for the first time. Her voice had a rasp to it, probably because of the massive throat scar. “It’s not supernatural.” If I hadn’t known Agent Altendorf was lying, I would of sworn Agent Blackcat wasn’t either. “If it was werewolf it would be eaten, if it was fae we wouldn’t find a body.” She reached out and pressed her fingers into the bloody dirt. Then she stood up, smoothly too, and without using her arms. 

“So, is it your guy?” I asked, politely reminding them that Ben and I were there.

She tilted her head, it was the only way I knew she was looking at me. Her voice was vaguely hungry when she said, “No, the MO is different.” Something about that voice scared me, and not just me. Suddenly Tony smelt of fear, and so did Ben. Ben who was the fourth in the pack ranking. She knew we were scared, I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I knew, and she enjoyed the affect. “Our killer always leaves broken bones, always.”

Agent Altendorf came back, without the Cantrip goons. She also smelled of fear, but she also smelled of annoyance. “You positive Blackcat? He hasn’t been braking as many bones recently.”

Agent Blackcat grinned, slow and wide and hungry. “I am never wrong,” she purred. Then she looked down at Tony. “This is human, a human with problems, but a human nonetheless.” Then she was moving and walking towards the SUV. I wasn’t sure how she got by us. Agent Altendorf looked at us and shrugged, then followed her partner.

“I guess you don’t need us.” Ben groused.

I was more diplomatic, and patted Tony’s shoulder as I started to leave. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Ben muttered under his breath to me as we walked to his truck. “Did you catch it?”

“Catch what?” My voice was equally quiet.

“The scarred one stuck her fingers in her mouth for a second. The fingers with the blood muck on them. Crazy bitch.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the two Feds had started talking. They were waiting by Ben’s truck. “So it was him.” Altendorf was saying.

“It was.”  Agent Blackcat inspected her fingers. “Getting braver too. Third gen half-fae, forest fae ancestor, had enough power to put up a fight.”

“There were no broken bones.” Altendorf’s voice was doubtful.

“He didn’t need to break them.” She nodded to us, her lips twisting slightly. “Crazy bitch?” I think she was looking at Ben.

“You’re leaning on my fucking car.” Ben growled slightly.

Agent Blackcat started to grin. “Was I? How silly of me.”

Altendorf whacked her on the arm. “Play nice, Blackcat. I don’t want to have to clean up any bodies.” Agent Blackcat gave an exaggerated pout, but moved to lean on the SUV. Altendorf looked at me and Ben and gave a tired smile, and held out her hand. “Mercy, I presume. And you are?”

I shook her hand, then gestured to Ben. “This is Ben, he’s our fourth.”

“How do you fucking do.” Ben deadpanned, and Altendorf laughed slightly.

“So what stake do the fae have in this?” I asked, while Ben grumbled and Agent Blackcat smirked. I needed to tack on the Agent beside her name, to remind myself not to call the cops on the scary-looking crazy woman.  


Altendorf tugged on her hair and sighed. “None that I know, I’m not powerful enough for the fae to concern themselves with. Only thing I can do is glamor.” She lied on those last two sentences, and she knew we knew. “Anyway, may I come to dinner tonight?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I would say yes, but I’m married.”

This startled a laugh out of her. “Professionally. We are supposed to introduce ourselves to all the major supernatural groups in our area. This goes doubly so for neutral territory. Which this is.”

I nodded understandingly and Ben asked, “Will you both be coming?”

“No.” Agent Blackcat’s rough voice startled me, but I was pretty sure that was the point.

Altendorf pointed at her partner. “I’m the face, she’s the muscle. Which means I get to do most of the talking” She turned to walk around her car.

“See you tonight then, Agent Altendorf.” I said.

I think I saw her wince. “Just call me Logan.” She called, then she hesitated and turned back towards us. “Also, I tend to use my glamor often. Mostly because I’m genderfluid, and using the glamor prevents misuse of pronouns. So if I look male, my pronouns are he/him, and if I look female, then my pronouns are she/her.” She got into her SUV.

“OK.” I said, then waited for Agent Blackcat to get into the SUV.

She didn’t. Instead she stared at us, then grinned widely. It shouldn’t of been scary, but the scar made it terrifying. “Coyote child,” she said, nodding at me, then to Ben, “Wolf.” The she was in the SUV, and the two federal agents were gone with the roar of the engine.

  
  


We were about half-way back to my house when I spoke again. “She knew who my not-father was.”

Ben was smart, and he got it almost immediately. “How did she know? She smelled like human, even if she didn’t act like it.”

I leaned back and thumped my head against the seat. “Only way I can think of is if she met someone like me.” I didn’t know what that meant. Walkers were rare, and hard to tell apart from normal humans. “I’ll ask Gary.”

Ben shoulders gave a jerk that might of been a shrug. “He might not know either.”

“I know,” I said, “but I would prefer to contact Gary before Coyote.” I pulled out my phone and dialed my half-brother. He didn’t answer the first time, so I hung up and called again. I had to call him three more times before he picked up.

“Jesus Mercy! What do you want?” He sounded exhausted.

“It’s three fucking o’clock in the afternoon. Why the fuck were you sleeping?” Ben asked.

“Good afternoon to you too.” He shot back with tired venom. “What do you want Mercy?”

“I need to know if you’ve heard of a six-foot tall native american woman with lots of scars called Samantha Blackcat.” There was a click, and then the faint fuzz of static. I pulled my phone back to glare at the screen. “He hung up on me!”

“Obviously.” Ben snarked. “He knows something.”

I dialed again, and this time Gary picked it up on the first ring. “Mmmmeeerrrcccyyyy,” he whined.

“Nope. No mercy for you.” I grinned.

On the other side of the phone I heard a groan. “That you’re joking shows that you don’t know how much danger you’re in.”

“So enlighten me.”

He sighed heavily, and I heard the sound of someone flopping dramatically onto a pillow. “Blackcat’s dangerous. Wherever she goes there’s death. I saw her once, fifteen years back. Then Coyote was there and I was back at home. He told me to stay away from her or I would die. Since I try my very hardest to not die, I’ve avoided her.”

“So . . . just vague warnings and nothing else?” I tried to cover my fear. Gary hung back up.

“Why are you afraid?” Ben asked, sounding confused.

“This is the same Coyote who threw me into a river with a giant monster, and took me and Gary to go spy on Guayota, and then got us chased by his tibicenas. He doesn’t do, ‘Oh, the situations dangerous, let me get you to safety,’ immediately. He waits until he throws you’ve almost died before he save you. So to here that he pulled Gary out of there when Gary just glimpsed her, well . . .” I trailed off, because I didn’t want to think of the possibilities.

“He’s afraid of the crazy bitch.” Ben said, surprised.

I nodded. “Yes, I guess he is. Afraid enough to not be reckless.” For a second we paused to think about that fact. “Anyway, we need to get home. The pack’s probably still in the middle of the game, and we need to make cookies.”

“Do we have to?” Ben grumped, because he grumped instead of whined.

“Yes, and you’re helping me.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

I patted his shoulder consolingly. “You’ll survive.”

“Like hell I will.”

”You’re not that bad of a cook.” Which had been an odd thing to find out.

Ben growled some more, and in a few more minutes we were pulling into the maze of cars parked in front of my house. There weren’t as many as there had been when we left. Members of the pack leaving after they got killed in game, mostly so I wouldn’t rope them into making cookies. It was fair. They killed me off first, I pulled them into helping me make bucket loads of cookies. A lot of the pack had stopped targeting me after that.

Aiden answered the door, looking sullen. Jessie had gotten him addicted to ISTDPB4 but he wasn’t very good, yet. He had probably killed off, but it didn’t smell like he had set the house on fire this time. His face brightened when he saw us. “Do you have cookies?” At his words, the roar of the pack quieted into a deathly silence. Perhaps we should of picked some up on the way.

“No. You all will have to wait.” Aiden moved out of the way to let me and Ben in. I walked straight towards the kitchen, Ben trailing me sullenly. To my surprise, Kyle and Warren sat at the kitchen table, drinking orange juice and petting Medea. I couldn’t help but grin, after Darryl and Auriele had left, Warren had taken place as Adam’s second, and no one had argued. The pack had also accepted Kyle as his mate, so Kyle was dragged into our game days as well.

Kyle looked at me ruefully as I entered. “You were right. I should've never let slip that I could cook.” I laughed at that and started getting things ready for cookies. As I directed Ben to gathering ingredients, I called to Adam, “We have a guest for dinner.”

“Oh? Who?” He called back, then, “Gah! Honey!”

“Yes?” Honey’s voice was way too smug. Points to her, I bet she had knocked him out of the game. I was right in my assessment, as a few seconds later Adam came into the kitchen, sat with Warren and Kyle, and started to smother Medea with affection.

“Agent Logan Altendorf of the FBI. Genderfluid half-fae who apparently only uses her glamor to express her pronouns. Liar of how powerful she is, and sent here to catch the murderer whose been making news lately.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “She thinks it’s him?”

“She may not be sure, but her partner is. One Agent Samantha Blackcat who is so scary she makes even Coyote run for the hills.”

“Now really? Are we expecting her as well?”

I shook my head. “No, just Logan. They are supposed to speak with all the local representatives of the supernatural community, hence dinner.”

“First names basis I see.” He teased.

“Oh you know me,” I batted my eyelashes at him, “I work fast.”

“Oh my God, please make it stop.” Ben muttered from where he was stirring batter.

We laughed, but soon Adam got to the point again. “Will they be a problem?”

I grabbed a spoon, stole some batter, and said, “I hope not.”

  
  


Much later, after most of the pack had left, I heard a car pull up in the driveway. Pull up was an understatement, because it was the same trick the Logan had used when parking at the crime scene. I looked at the clock, it was five o’clock, and I had just started making dinner. Well, Ben, Honey, Zack and I had just started making dinner. I heard the footsteps up to the door, and a polite knock. The footsteps were heavier than Logan's had been. Zack washed his hands and went to open the door.

“Hheelloo handsome. Where have you been my whole life?” Said a german, and male, voice.

“Agent Logan Altendorf, I presume?” Was Zack’s cheerful reply.

“You presume correctly, may I come in?”

“Sure. We just got started making dinner.”

“Really? I had figured you guys ate earlier than most, considering your faster metabolisms. Anyway, better early then late.” Logan said as Zack led him into the kitchen. Logan’s male form was only slightly taller than his female’s, but his slimness made him look taller. His features were more masculine, and his hair shorter, but it was still obviously the same person. Or Logan’s brother. He had changed out of his suit into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, appropriate for the cold outside.

“Can you cook?” I asked as he walked in.

“Yes.”

“Cool, you watch the meatloaf, Honey, you’re off.” Honey just moved out of the way and picked up Medea as Logan moved in to take her place. As he did that, I commented, “You know that’s bad for your brakes.”

He looked at me, startled, then grinned. “I know. I didn’t use to do that, but it’s worth it.”

“What’s worth it?” Asked Honey, who had decided to lean elegantly against the door frame as she stroked the cat.

Logan’s grin widened. “Blackcat’s face. She gets the most ridiculous face when I pull that stunt, so it’s become habit now.” He looked at me. “Will this be everyone?”

I gave a shrug. “Adam and Jesse are helping Aiden with his homework, but they will be down for dinner.”

“Or Mercy,” Ben said sardonically, “will know why.” I whacked him lightly with a spoon, and we all continued with making dinner. Then eating it. We found out that Logan could dance around the subject of the murder’s with ease, and hold a serious conversation about One Punch Man with Jesse. We got the hint, and after dinner Jesse pulled Aiden upstairs to introduce him to the "worst-and-best-anime ever".

Logan watched them go with an odd look on his face, but shook it off when Adam ordered. “Explain.”

Logan looked at him, then reached over to pet Medea when she jumped onto the table. “What do you want me to explain?”

“How about,” I said, “we start with how you knew the body was caused by your murderer.” Ben leaned back in his chair and looked intimidating, which he was good at. Honey and Zack just stared.

Logan pulled on a strand of his hair thoughtfully. “It wasn’t me. It was Blackcat, and I trust Blackcat’s judgment. She knew it was the killer because the body had no soul. I’m not talking about dying, and then the soul leaving the body, but about the soul being removed before the body died.” His tone was solemn.

“How is that possible?” Honey asked. It was a good question. Necromancers can use ghosts to power themselves up, I could somewhat control the dead. I’d never heard of anything taking the soul out of the body before death before.

Logan tapped the table. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure what could do that.” He paused, then amended, “okay, I’m pretty sure Blackcat could do that, but if it was Blackcat, there wouldn’t be a body at a time. It would be a city at a time. Our best bet is that it is a witch. Blackcat says it is possible for a witch to learn how to do this, just that it is highly implausible. And that it’s a waste of time. Ripping the soul out of a body does induce pain, but not as much as slowly torturing someone to death.”

None of us asked the obvious question to how Blackcat knew that. None of us pointed out that Logan had mentioned that Blackcat could destroy a city at a time. Instead, Adam said, “Which brings us to our next question. You’re scent.” I’d noticed it too, now that there wasn’t the stench of blood and death clogging my nose. Beneath the smell of fae was the smell of magic, witch magic.

“Simple enough.” Logan said.”My mother was a witch who mostly focused on making herself attractive to certain kinds of people. AKA, fae people. She succeeded with having children twice, once was me and once was my brother. The only thing I got from my father is my glamor, and I have my mother’s power, no matter which glamor I’m using.” There was a faint trace of annoyance in his voice. “I’m mostly a white witch, but if I am in a situation where I can’t generate the power I need with personal sacrifice, then I am not above using the power generated by others. I just don’t like too.” 

I thought about it for a few seconds. It made sense. Ben raised a finger. “Okay,” he said, “third question. What the f. . . duck is Blackcat.”

“I don’t know.” We all stared at him, because although it was the truth, it wasn’t the whole truth. He gave a shrug. “I don’t know exactly what she is. I know she’s old. I know she’s dangerous. I know she’s terrifying. I know some of her names. That’s all I know.” A phone rang, for a second we all froze, then Logan pulled at his phone and frowned at the screen. “It’s Jacob, may I take this?” 

I looked at Adam, and he shrugged. Worriedly, Logan answered the phone. “Jacob, is everything alright?”

“I need your help,” said a young boys voice on the other end of the speaker.

Logan sat up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

Jacob’s voice came out bright and cheerful. “What Pokemon: Sun and Moon character is Blackcat?”

Logan's eye twitched slightly, and he gave an exasperated sigh. “Jacob-” He began, but the kid just bowled him over.

“Because since Blackcat's coming to comicon with me, she needs to dress up. And since I’m doing Pokemon, we need a Pokemon character for her. I’m thinking Gladion, but I need a second opinion.”

A distant voice, dry and hoarse. “I’m not going to comicon, and I’m not dressing up.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are -” 

The argument was cut off by Logan hanging up and shoving the phone into his pocket with a look of tired amusement and annoyance. I had to ask. “Comicon?”

Logan groaned. “Comicon. You don’t want to know. God, they act like they’re five.” For a while we were all silent, after all, what could you say after hearing an argument about comicon between a kid and a crazy, dangerous person?

Finally, Zack said. “I’m taking it that Jacob is your brother?” Logan nodded.

“He sounded young.” I said, hoping he would get where I was leading. Logan looked to be between late twenties and early thirties, but still, glamor. 

Logan did indeed get where I was leading. “He’s thirteen. Mom's really good at what she does.” He stretched. “Anyway, back to business. Basically, I’m here to tell you what you can expect from us. It’s pretty much the normal FBI stuff, except we will be dealing in depth with the supernatural community. You can make your own investigations if you would like, and if it is a werewolf, and you find them first, you may dispense justice as you see fit. If it a werewolf, and we find them first, then we will be the ones to dispense justice. If you find them and then hide them, and we find out, then we will kill them.” He leaned forward and sighed heavily. “I don’t think you’re that type, but I’m still supposed to warn you. If that scenario comes true, then we will come to talk. That talk could go one of two ways, everyone leaves happy, or you die.” For a few minutes the words hung in the air.

Adam crossed his arms. “You think you could kill me?”

“I probably couldn’t, but Blackcat could.” He believed it too, you could see it in his face. For the second time his phone rang. He grimaced, pulled it out, looked at it and then made a face and held it up to his ear. “Yes, Blackcat?”

“Can human children have ice cream for dinner? I’m not exactly sure if that’s healthy or not.”

“Blackcat.” Logan’s voice had gone as cold as ice, and his face was disbelieving. “What. Do. You. think?”

There was a pause. “No?”

“You would be correct.”

“You hear him little cub? No ice cream for you.”

Jacob’s voice. “You aren’t the boss of me.”

“No, but I’m faster than you.”

“Hey! Give that back! No fair!”

“You want it? Grow up.”

“You can’t use your height as an advantage!”

“Oh? I just did. Hey! Get off the tabl-” 

Logan hung up, turned his phone on silent, then after a moment's hesitation, powered it off. He looked up at us and grimaced. “I’m sorry, in retrospect I should of turned it off after the first call.”

“Do they do that often? Call in the middle of important meetings?” I asked.

“Not often, but it could've been worse. Now imagine having to live with them.”

I could, and it sounded like a nightmare. A humorous nightmare, but I nightmare nonetheless. I started to ask how they could get worse, but Honey spoke before I could. “So you’re job was to deliver a threat? If we find the killer, tell you or you’ll kill us?”

He winced. “Pretty much. And also to ask for a little bit of help. And a warning. We have it on very good information that a werewolf might be targeted next.”

Adam stiffened. “On what authority?”

Logan lifted his chin and looked Adam straight in the eye. He tilted his head slightly, exposing his neck and gave a sad smile. “I’m not allowed to say, for their protection, but they have never been wrong before.”

Adam nodded. “Then we will take you’re warning into account. The favor you wish to ask for?”

Logan relaxed marginally. “Tomorrow I will be offering the same threat to the fae, and the witch community has already been alerted. But that is not what I will need your help with. Tomorrow night Blackcat will be speaking with both vampires and goblins. It can’t be me because my blood is supposedly too alluring, and Blackcat is dangerous enough that both vampires and goblins will listen to her. But I need a representative from your pack to make sure she won’t go too far, and to make sure they understand that you have already agreed to this deal. As the ones who started the neutral territory, you will be needed to show that no insult is intended.”

“Understandable,” I said, “who do you think would be best?”

He shrugged. “Someone higher up would be nice, and someone who will not fold over when Blackcat starts to be scary. Someone who won’t show their fear, and won’t be afraid to annoy her. She finds it amusing when people are jerks to her, and it makes her less likely to kill them.”

Honey, Zack, Adam, and I looked at Ben. He shot up with wide eyes. “How about no?” he suggested with little to no hope.

“You fit the description,” I said calmly, “and you can be charming when you need to be.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the battle had been lost before it had been truly begun. He slumped back into his seat with a muttered “Fine.”

Zack looked at Logan. “You’re afraid of her.” He pointed out.

Logan set his hands gently on the table. “Yes I am, but I also know as long as I don’t let my fear control me, she won’t kill me. Hence the car.”

“Can you give us a hint on how powerful she is?” Adam asked.

Logan pushed down on the table and took a deep breath. He smelled of fear. “The first time I met her, we were on different teams, and her partner was a werewolf. They had been facing some sort of old, powerful fae. Not Grey Lord powerful, but close. Her partner was almost dead, and unconscious. She, by herself, had ripped the fae into little itty bitty pieces. When I saw her she was covered in blood, had her arm broken in two places, and was eating the pieces one-by-one. Not like an animal would, but by picking up pieces, inspecting them, and then eating them. She was smiling, and she was . . . disappointed. Not disappointed, but disgusted and gleeful at the same time. She looked at me when I came in, and I was using my glamor to keep myself hidden, directly into my eyes, and said ‘I thought that would be harder. Oh well.’ That picture gives me nightmares sometimes.” his voice shook when he said that, and we all kept silent. I thought about that image, and shivered. It was a scary thought, and I didn’t blame him for the nightmares. He stood up, and Medea spilled out of his lap where she had curled up. “Anyway, I need to get back to the house before Jacob and Blackcat burn it down.”

He was only partly joking.

Adam stood up with him and shook his hand. “I hope next time we meet, it will not be with threats. One last question. How did a half-fae-half-witch and a dangerous creature like Agent Blackcat get hired by the FBI?”

Logan gave a mischievous smile. “Soon the FBI will reveal that they have created a branch completely made of supernaturals. I hope you have a good night.” Then he left, and we were left contemplating his words.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fae politics are fun? Also, shopping shenanigans.

Logan

The next morning I woke to the sun’s light streaming through the curtains, reminding me of my appointment with the fae. I really didn’t want to get up, yesterday had been  _ exhausting. _ Perhaps I should let Blackcat . . . no, she would just end up killing someone. With a groan, I stumbled out of the bed and made my way to the kitchen.

To no surprise at all Blackcat was up and about, sitting on the kitchen table, a carton of eggs beside her. She tapped a hole in the shell of the egg she held, and the drunk it. Raw. I gave a shudder of revulsion and grabbed a bowl and some of the marshmallow cereal Jacob likes so much. “You,” I said, pointing the box at her, “are going to take Jacob to the store today and buy more eggs.” I looked at the table and winced. “And a new table. The boss only gives us so much money.”

Blackcat finished her last egg, dunked the carton and the shells into the trash can, and said. “Jacob’s fault.”

I gestured at the  _ humongous  _ crack in the middle of the table. “Jacob’s a thirteen year old boy, a sickly one at that. He doesn’t have the strength the to break a table nearly in two.” I may of been exaggerating, but only by a little bit.

She grinned wider. “He does when he attempts a flying leap.”

I winced. “I hope you caught him.”

Her grin dropped, and she slid off the poor table as I took a seat and started to chow down on my cereal. “Which is why we are now missing a bowl.” I looked up in horror and when she saw the look on my face, her grin came back. “Kidding. The bowl was plastic.”

“Thank God.” I groaned. “Could you attempt to be a little less chipper? Remember the gruesome body, murderer on the loose, diplomatic missions, threatening prophecies?”

Her grin widened to split her face, and suddenly her teeth were a little sharper, a little more jagged, and her eyes carried the trace of something not exactly human. “Yes,” came her smug voice, “I do.” 

Oh yeah, how could I forget that when somebody this dangerous was killing people, then Blackcat got to kill someone? With no repercussions? Seriously, how could I forget that? I shoved down the fear that was starting to build with another spoonful of cereal. Occasionally I started to forget that Blackcat was anything but human, and then she would do something like that to remind me. Then the fear would come rushing up, with the knowledge that she could kill me in less then a second. Probably less than a millisecond.

Still, I trusted Blackcat, somewhat, to not completely kill me. I trusted her more than I used to.

She sensed my fear, but ignored it, it used to be that she couldn’t do that either. Instead of commenting, she moved over to the fridge and pulled it open only to gasp in shock. “We’re out of milk! We’ve only been here about a day!”

“Eggs.” I said. “Table. Ice cream. Really Blackcat, the ice cream.”

Her voice was only vaguely remorseful, but vaguely remorseful was better than nothing. “You said that Jacob couldn’t eat it as dinner, not that we couldn’t use as ammunition.”

“How did you even get in - wait, I don’t want to know. We spent  _ all _ night cleaning it up.”

She waited a beat, then chirped, “Jacob’s fault.”

I briefly entertained the idea of banging  my head on the table, but the table would probably fall apart, and even if it didn’t, I did not want to talk to the fae with a headache. So instead, I changed the subject. “Speaking of Jacob, how’s he doing?”

“No dreams,” she sighed and leaned against the fridge. Her voice, for once, serious. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“It’s a good thing.” I said, and dropped my spoon into the empty bowl. “And you? Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Notice what?”

“You’re new scars.” It was hard to keep track of them, but over the years I had learned how to tell when new ones appeared. “Are you in control?”

She looked at me, her eyes odd, but only human odd, not supernatural odd. “I,” she said in a coldly amused voice, “am never in control.”

“You know what I mean. Full moon was only a week ago, are you in control enough to talk to the vamps and gobs?”

Her eyes were still human odd, but that didn’t reassure me much. I had seen her kill a man without her eyes shifting color. Blackcat was crazy, not just the Other, but her Human too. “Full moon was a week ago, yes, but new moon is next week. All three of us are in balance. Besides, if I slip,” her voice changed to another's and her eye’s went supernatural odd. “I will be here to catch her.” Then she grinned, and though her teeth were blunt, neither the eyes or voice changed. “Besides, vampires taste horrible, and goblins are annoying to hunt. You have no need to worry.”

If anything, that made me  _ increase  _ my worry, but I pushed it down and looked back towards the room Jacob had claimed as his own, where he slept with no dreams to disturb him. “You’ll keep him safe?”

I felt her move more then saw her, felt the soft press of lips against the top of my head, and heard the creak of the table as she sat back down. For anyone but me and Jacob, a touch from Blackcat would've meant a broken neck or a ripped out throat. But Blackcat loved us both in her twisted way, even if none of the things inside of her would’ve ever admitted it except the Cat, as it called itself. Although if it was a cat, then I was a werewolf. “Always.” She promised, and her eyes didn’t shift back to human odd. Cat was staying in front for now. 

Her lips twisted into an amused grin. “Is that what you’re going to wear for you’re meeting? Pajamas?”

I countered with a, “Is that what you’re going to wear to meet the vampire queen and the goblin king? Sweatpants?”

“Hey,” she said, looking affronted, “These are my best clothes.”

I wouldn’t put them as her best clothes, but at least they weren’t the normal dirty grey color or covered in blood stains. I stood up and dumped my dishes into the sink. “I’ll be wearing a suit. As you  _ should _ .”

She snorted her derision at mortal work clothes, and I walked to my room and shut the door. True to my word, I put on a suit. I also pulled on my gloves and my gun, covering both with glamor. Iron didn’t bother me as much as many half-fae, and it was the same for Jacob, so I was guessing that it was because of our witchy heritage that this was true. Still, I always wore gloves, just in case. Laughter, Blackcat’s laughter, came for the kitchen, and I assumed that Jacob had shuffled out to get breakfast.

I was right, he was sitting at the poor table while shoveling food into his face as fast as physically possible for someone who didn’t have any supernatural speedy skills. Blackcat had slid off the table, and was now leaning against it, her eyes still not-human odd. I pointed a finger at them when they looked up at me. “What are you doing today.”

Jacob looked up. “Critical Role.” 

Blackcat pulled on her braid. “Choosing a movie to pass the time before Critical Role comes on.”

“And?” I prompted.

She frowned. “Groceries?” She hazarded.

“Yes, and what else?”

Jacob got it first, and he bounced in his chair in delight. “Not burning the house down!” 

“Correct.” That had been a nightmare, and I still hadn’t figured out how they had managed to achieve that feat. I had left them alone for an hour, for God’s sake!

“Goodbye! Love You!” I said as I made my way to the door.

“Goodbye! Love you too!” Jacob singsonged back, then he said, presumably to Blackcat, “What movie?”

Blackcat’s voice was filled with evil laughter. “I was thinking The Musical.”

I hurried up and Jacob’s false wail of distress followed me out. I did not want to be there when Blackcat started The Musical, and besides, Uncle Mike’s awaited my arrival.

  
  


Of course, I didn’t head to the bar immediately. Instead, I was driving my  _ totally  _ not-noticeable black car around the Tri-cities, trying to get a feel for where the victim had come from. I called it finding, and it was one of the few tricks that my mom had taught me before I had left. She had used this trick to single out people for her . . . appetites. I used this trick to locate the related of a body too mangled to identify.

Normally we would of used the wallet of the person or the dentals, but the body had been missing everything that could be used to identify him. 

Drivers license, fingertips, teeth.

So now, I was driving through the Tri-cities with one hand one the wheel and the other hand playing with a bloody scrap of cloth that Blackcat had snitched from the scene off the crime while distracting Mery and Ben by being a “Crazy bitch.” Not that I could disagree with that rather spot-on assessment of Blackcat.

The range with this trick wasn’t very large, about a mile. I could've probably extended the range if I actively practiced black magic, but I had no inclination of falling to the temptations of the dark side any time soon. 

My hand tightened around the scrap of cloth and I breathed in sharply as my magic gave a faint tug. A few minutes and a couple of death defying car tricks later, I cruised slowly in front of a suburban house. I thought I caught a glimpse of a pair of worried eyes through one of the curtains, and a jerk my magic confirmed this was the place. I dropped the piece of fabric into the cup holder and placed my hand back onto the steering wheel. The eyes had been at a level higher than mine would of been if I had been standing, so it was an adult. So either the mother or father of the dead man. My magic wouldn’t track anyone not blood related, so it couldn’t of been a spouse.

I drove by one more time to catch the address of the house, then drove to a place where  I could pull of and text Blackcat. FOUND THE PLACE.

Her text back was swift. GOOD FOR YOU.

I CAN’T TALK TO THEM. I WILL BE TALKING TO THE POLICE, AND STEERING THEM AWAY FROM THE RIGHT TRACK. DON’T FORGET GROCERIES.

I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO THEM.

I ended the conversation by sending her the address. Then I pulled back into the street and headed towards Uncle Mike’s. It wasn’t technically lunch time, but it was always a good idea to arrive early to a meeting.

  
  


Blackcat

I wasn’t quite sure how the scamp had managed it, but I had agreed to go shopping before watching my movie. So Jacob and I stood outside staring at the obvious lack of transportation. Jacob looked at me, his eyes wide. “How are we going to get to the store?”

“I’ll carry you.” I said, jamming my hands into my pockets to make sure I had both the keys for the house and my wallet. Then I pushed my sunglasses up my nose, and grinned down at him. He looked up at me with the widest grin.  _ Disgusting, _ whispered the Other.

**Shut up,** said my Human.

I ignored them both a swung Jacob up onto my shoulders. He gave a giggle and scratched me behind the ear. I gave a half purr and leaned into his hand. “Hold on.” I told him, and he gripped my hair with his fingers.

“Three.” He laughed.

“Two.” I said, crouching like a racer, fingers trailing on the ground.

“One!” We cried together, an eager, hunting howl. I moved, we shot forward, and the world around us blurred. Jacob gripped onto my hair tighter, he had good instincts. If he let go, he would be blown off and he would die on impact. With that in mind, I slowed my speed, till we were going just slower than a car would. We skidded into the parking lot of the store within about ten minutes, and I stopped for a second to let Jacob catch his breath.

“Wicked.” He breathed, even though we both knew I could move quicker than that.

“Where to next, little cub?” I asked. Even so early in the morning, I could hear the chaos in the store. All the wires, the heartbeats and footsteps of employees and shoppers, the clattering of shopping carts. If I had been in my form instead of my Human’s, I would of lain my ears back. 

Jacob tapped the top of my head. “We,” he inserted a dramatic pause, “are braving the jungle of the Grocery Store!!!!!!!!” In a completely different tone of voice, he said, “And put the teeth away, you’ll scare someone.” Obediently, I put the teeth away and trotted into the store.

People stared at us, and I think one person was going to tell me to put Jacob down. But between my terrifying presence and Jacob’s sunny smile, nobody said everything. Jacob steered me towards the refrigerated goods section and I listened to his string of chatter and ignored the sounds of easy prey around me. We ended up getting two gallons of milk, three cartons of egg, and two cartons of ice cream, with an addition of the chips that Logan likes so much as an apology for the ice cream fight. Which was still Jacob’s fault. The cashier woman shook as I paid for the groceries, but Jacob’s infectious cheer soon had her laughing about something Pokemon related.

We ended up where we had started, in the parking lot with bags of groceries and no car. “If you run the whole way, we’ll drop something or something will break.” Jacob said.

“You’re right.” I said.

“We could Walk?” He offered hesitantly.

I made a noncommittal noise as I thought it over. It would leave me weak, but I would have plenty of time to rest before nightfall. “Shall do.” I said, then shifted, not all the way, just enough to allow my nature to peak out more than either my Human’s or the Other’s. My form turned just a little incorporeal, and Jacob squeaked and gripped on tighter. The world around me twisted too, till I was seeing double. I juggled my load till I could free my hand, then bit down into my finger till it bled. The warm liquid rolled down my finger and fell towards the pavement. It never met the ground, and the air rippled when it disappeared. I waited three more drips before I closed the wound on my finger.  _ “Payment for passage to my temporary den.” _  I whispered in my old tongue.

For a second, maybe two, nothing happened, and then the world whirled into the shape of a kitchen. The kitchen of the house we had rented. I stumbled forward and dropped my load onto the table as Jacob slid off of my back. The table made a creaking noise, and he ducked underneath to, offer support or something?  I started grabbing stuff and shoving them into the fridge, freezer, and cupboards.

A few minutes later Jacob climbed out from under the table and grinned at me. “Well, that was a harrowing adventure.”

I looked at him, then looked at the table. “It’s not over.” I grabbed him and swung him onto my shoulders. He laughed loudly and we walked to the door, only to find it locked. Because I had locked it.

I groaned over top off Jacobs giggles and unlocked the door, bent down so I could walk through the doorway without banging Jacob’s head on the door frame, and re-locked the door. He stopped giggling so he could say, “Logan forgot his keys.”

“We’ll be back before Logan will.” I said in the most exhausted voice I could manage. He started to giggle again, and I laughed with him. 

“Three?” He asked.

“Two.” I confirmed as I crouched.

“One!” He shouted as I sprang forward, his laughter spiraling behind us, and a smile crossed my face. Today was a good day, for all that I would have to talk to people in a diplomatic way later.

It took us longer to reach the furniture store then it had to reach the grocery store. Somehow it was more crowded than the grocery store, and louder. I growled lowly in the back of my throat. Jacob placed his hands over my ears and said, “Behave.”

“Okay,” I murmured back to him. “Do you know why it’s so crowded?”

“Maybe there is a sale going on.”

“Uhhhhhhhhhgggggg.”

“What are you, three? Let’s get going.”

With a shrug, I moved forwards, ready to face the endless ranks of cattle.

I had to admit, it could of been worse. We only had one misstep, where a few years ago I would have exited the building with blood on my hands. Some guy, absolutely normal looking with an average face and average hair, but with a crazy belt buckle that was gold with a ruby in it, and the stench of fire around him bumped into me. I bumped back harder, and he stumbled backwards, and opened his mouth to say something. I had growled, and he left quickly, and suddenly me and Jacob had a ten foot bubble of personal space as other shoppers fled from the crazy scary lady. Which had earned me a light cuff from Jacob.

“Blackcat,” he had said, “really now? Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” I had answered, because people who didn’t watch were they were going tended to get bumped.

On our way out with the new table under my arms, boxed and ready to be constructed, I heard someone say, “Freaks. Tri-city is full of them nowadays.” 

It’s funny how people say freak like it’s an insult. I’m a freak, my Human is a freak, the Other is a freak, Logan is a freak, and Jacob is a freak. So is the sheep that thought that whispering could keep his words from my ears. Everyone is a freak in their own way, it’s just the scary freaks that you need to look out for.

The ‘crazy bitches’ so to speak.

  
  


Logan

When I pulled up to Uncle Mike’s, I did my best to not do the  _ sudden-brake-of-death  _ park. There was no Blackcat to annoy, and Mercy was right, it was horrible for the brakes. I climbed out of my car, adjusted my collar, and walked to the door. The door guard gave me an unimpressed look. So I grinned at him and said, “Agent Logan Altendorf, here to meet Uncle Mike.”

The door guard raised one unimpressed eyebrow. “Logan Altendorf is supposed to be female.”

I flashed my badge. “Only occasionally, now do things have to get nasty?”

“Let him in!” Called a voice from the inside. The door guard grumbled, but moved, and I shot him a wink as I walked in. The bar was pretty much empty, unsurprisingly sense lunch break hadn’t started. I grabbed a bar stool and sat down, grinning at the man wiping down the table. He looked up at me and said, “You’re not supposed to be here for another thirty minutes.”

“Hello Green Man, I like to be early.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Hello Fire’s Child. Lets go to a back room. Hannah, cover the bar for me!”

A woman stepped out of the back and nodded, moving to the bar. I followed Uncle Mike as he led me toward a door near the back. “So, Agent Altendorf, how’s your mother? Still in business, or has old age finally found her?” He asked as he opened the door.

I shook my head and said, “Trust me, that is not a question you want answered.” I entered the room, and it looked like a back room for every bar that has ever hosted secret meetings. I sat down and said “How is life treating you?”

He sat down as well and gave me a slightly cheery grin. “Could be worse. How’s life treating you?”

“My partner and my brother got into a ice cream fight last night. So life could be better. I get the feeling that life could be going better for you to. I’m afraid my message will not make your day better.” I leaned back in my chair and studied him. He was using magic to make himself more likable, fine. I could play that game too. I shifted my glamor just a little, just enough so my face looked a little bit more trustworthy, a little bit more like someone you would take the advice from.

He noticed, that was fine, just because he noticed didn’t mean that the trick wouldn’t work. “You’re good with the glamor.”

“I’ve practiced.”

“Good. How’s your brother?”

“Nightmares, but that’s too be expected from a thirteen year old boy who has seen the horrors the world holds.” Sorry Blackcat.

Uncle Mike smiled. “True, especially from one of His children. Does He even know He has a son?”

I shrugged. “Probably not, Mother is very good at what she does.” I didn’t know who He was, and it didn’t matter. They couldn’t have Jacob, I wouldn’t let them. And neither would Blackcat.

“I bet she is. What is the message you wanted to deliver?”

“I am part of a new branch of FBI, one created specifically for dealing with the supernatural, to deal with the things CANTRIP can’t.”

“I’ve heard rumors about that.”

“We’ve been operating for five years now.”

Uncle Mike gave a low whistle. “Wow, impressive.”

“Lately there has been a rash of murders across the States. We know its the same person, because the soul is missing from the body. Was missing before the person died.”

Uncle Mike’s grin fell from his face. “A fae couldn’t do that. You are looking for a witch.”

“I have already delivered this message to the witches of the Tri-cities. You are allowed to make your own investigations if you would like, and if it is a fae, and you find them first, you may dispense justice as you see fit. If it a fae, and we find them first, then we will be the ones to dispense justice. If you find them and then hide them, and we find out, then we will kill them. If that scenario that ends up happening, then my partner and I will come to talk. That talk could go one of two ways, everyone leaves happy, or you die, and the people who try to stop us will die.”

Any trace left of cheerfulness fell from his face. “I understand completely. Will you be bringing your brother to meet his father?” A threat for a threat.

I stood and leaned forward, bracing my palms on the table. “If anyone touches my brother without my permission, I won’t need Blackcat’s help to rip out their heart, but I might let Blackcat do it anyway, because Blackcat is way more terrifying. And she knows to leave a piece big enough to carve my name into. Do you understand me Green Man?”

He smiled, and this time his smile reminded me off Blackcat’s, but Blackcat’s was scarier, way scarier. “Perfectly, Fire’s Child.” He stood as well, then moved to open the door.

Before he did, I called out, “Blackcat also has a message to bring to the Fae council. Don’t make her end what she started when the vikings landed on earth that did not belong to them, the first time.” Like I knew what  _ that  _ meant.

I think he stiffened, but I wasn’t sure. I may not of known what Blackcat had meant, but he did. When he turned to look at me, there was worry and fear in his eyes. “You don’t know who your partner is, do you?”

“I don’t need to.”

He kept on speaking. “She is Death’s creation, the thing with no soul.”

I almost laughed. Blackcat had a soul, in fact, she had three. “Yes and no,” I acknowledged, “she is once born, twice dead, and thrice forged. Death just played a part in her creation, she did all the rest.”

His cheery mask went up, but I got the impression that he thought I was being stupid. “Stay for lunch, it’s on the house.”

I smiled back while inwardly gritting my teeth. I hated fae politics. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact! The dreaded musical is 1776.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring our favorite swearwolf! Also, everyone believing Blackcat isn't good at diplomacy, but in truth, she could be a lot worse.

Ben

So here I was, sitting in the living room of my alpha’s house, fervently hoping he wouldn’t walk through the door and find me teaching his two children to hack. If we were counting Aiden as one of his children that is, which I was pretty sure the pack was, but whatever, close enough. Anyway, hacking is a good life skill that everyone needed to know, even a alpha’s child and maybe-child. Mercy would agree with me. Hopefully. Because if she didn’t then I was dead meat if caught.

“So,” I said, keeping my voice low under the music Jesse was playing as interference, “What you do next is-” The doorbell rang, and I looked at the clock on the computer. Eight o’clock, great, I now had to deal with the crazy bitch. Yay me.

Jesse looked up. “Logan’s partner is here.”

“I liked Logan.” Aiden muttered slightly, I don’t think he meant for me to hear it.

“You won’t like the partner.” I grumbled back as I closed the tabs on the screen. I thought I heard a quiet laugh before Jesse clicked of her music, but I wasn’t positive. 

Aiden headed to the door while I was still putting up the laptop, and I heard the shocked silence. Then, “You’re Logan’s partner?” Disbelief, shock, maybe a touch of fear, it was hard to tell.

“Ohhhh. You’re one of Underhill’s Chosen, is your kind still as delicious as I remember?” That scratchy, I’ve-been-at-death’s-door-and-even-he-couldn’t-hold-me voice. Shit. The whole house went dead quiet, and I caught the faintest smell of smoke. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I heard laughter, a horrible sandpapery sound. “Sheesh kid! I was only asking, no need to get so defensive!” 

I managed to get there in time to see Agent Blackcat bent over laughing, her hair covering most of her face. Aiden’s hands were in fists, and he stared at her in horror. “I don’t believe Logan would have as bad of a taste as to chose you as a partner.” His voice had gotten quite cold, which was almost funny for a guy who could start fires. “I am not a kid. I am older than you. If you try to eat me, I will burn you to ash.”

Agent Blackcat’s laughter disappeared as quickly as it had come. She straightened, wiping imaginary tears from behind her sunglasses. “Logan had no choice in the matter. And as for age kid,” Her smile went wide, then was gone, “I most certainly have you beat. As for killing me,” this time her smile stayed longer and was most definitely unhinged, “I'd like to see you try.”

Aiden opened his mouth, probably to say something along the lines of ‘No, you don’t’, but I really didn’t want to have to call the fire department again, so I broke in. “That’s what you’re fucking wearing to meet the fucking Queen of the Damned?” Mercy’s name for Marisila had stuck, and it was a viable question. I mean, I hadn’t dressed up overly fancy, but my clothes were at least presentable. And ironed.

Agent Blackcat looked down at herself and her voice was confused when she said, “What’s wrong with it? These are my best clothes.” Her ‘best clothes’ were a black tee shirt with giant armholes that had IT MUST OF BEEN MY EVIL TWIN scrawled on it in white permanent marker, with EVIL done in red glitter, black yoga pants that somehow managed to have pockets, a raggedy messenger bag, and no shoes. Her braid went from loose on top to tight near the end, in fact it was so loose on top it could be counted as bangs, and she had wrapped her braid around her throat multiple times to look like a scarf.

Or a noose. Oh great, now even her hair was threatening.

And lets not forget the sunglasses. At night. Seriously, what the fuck?

She looked at me, possibly looked at me, and smirked. “I happen to think I look very presentable. Also, we’ll have to take your car. I ran here.” 

The only answer I could think to that was a skeptical, “UH huh.”

“Why don’t you come in for a chat first.” Said Adam, who had managed to creep up on us. I was startled, so was Aiden, she wasn’t. Then again, she could see what was behind us, if she wasn’t hiding blind eyes behind the glasses.

Instead, she tilted her head and asked, “What about?” Okay, maybe she had a good reason for those sunglasses. You could meet someone's eyes without them knowing, and it was pretty unnerving to not being able to know where a person was focusing their attention.

“About how you knew what my wife was. And about threatening my pack.” I didn’t need to look at Adam to know he was channeling the scary.

Agent Blackcat’s face went blank, and her rough voice carried no emotion with her words. “I don’t threaten, the word threaten implies that I might change my mind in the future. I promise. I wasn’t promising to kill your tenant, I was simply asking a question. When I promise, you will know the difference.” Then that crafted facade of blankness was gone, and she was smirking. “As for what your mate is, a little birdie told me. Helpful things, birdies, aren't they?”

“Any chance you could tell us your birdies names?” Mercy, and she sounded more amused then anything else, though I could smell her fear. Which didn’t mean much, Mercy was afraid of a lot of things, which didn’t make sense for a person who was considered the most dangerous person in the Tri-cities. Though I was pretty sure she now had a contender.

Oh, who the hell was I kidding? Mercy was the most dangerous person in the Tri-cities by sheer causing chaos power alone.

“Alas, I could not. I like being in the loop, and I would hate to have my birdies stop chirping.”

“We wouldn’t kill your birdies,” Mercy sighed.

The crazy bitch gave a shrug. “Can’t take that chance.”

“What’s in the bag?” Jesse’s cheerful voice interrupted the verbal posturing, and Agent Blackcat’s shoulders slumped way too dramatically.

“I would love to say murder implements, but the truth is far less gruesome.” She pulled a face. “It’s Magic cards.”

“Magic cards?” I think all of us said it. The thought of the crazy bitch running around to meet the Queen of the Damned and Larry the Goblin King with a card game in her messenger bag, was, was . . . I couldn’t identify what it was, it was just too out there.

“Yep.” She looked almost sheepish, but I didn’t buy it at all. “Magic cards. I’m attempting to make a deck to counter the horrendousness that the Simic deck is. Blue green is the worst combination to go against. Ever.”

My mind short circuited, but somehow Jesse managed to carry the conversation, somehow. “What color are you going to use to go against it?”

“Red and Black. Damage spells, zombies, goblins, and some demons.” She grinned, wide and amused. Then she looked at her wrist as if she actually had a watch instead of scar tissue. “Anyway we should probably get going, wouldn’t want to be late.” Then she turned around and strode towards my car. I turned around to look at Mercy and Adam, my mouth shaping the word help, but Adam shook his head and Mercy made a regretting face and I was gently but firmly being pushed out the door, leaving me to my fate with the crazy bitch.

Fucking shit. Why was this my fucking life?

I groaned and walked to my car, unlocked it, and jumped into the driver’s seat. Agent Blackcat slipped into the shotgun seat, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. I ignored that smirk, turned on the car, flipped off the brakes, and scooted out of Adam’s driveway, the headed in the direction of the seethe’s house. When I looked out of the corner off my eyes, Agent Blackcat’s hand had a white-knuckled grip on the handle above the window. Hah! I had the crazy bitch on the defensive. Time to go for the opportunity strike. “So,” I said as if my wolf wasn’t cowering in fear, “Why the personality change?”

Her voice was dry and sarcastic. “What personality change?”

“At the crime scene you were a fucking silent bitch, but now you’re talking fucking cards with fucking teenagers.” My voice didn't sound as accusatory as I had hoped for.

She snorted. “Ohh, that's how I usually am nowadays. Used to be I was all ‘If you speak to me I’ll rip your arms off’. It's because I like people now.” Off all the answers possible, that was not the one I was expecting. She must of seen my incredulous expression because she burst into that horrible cackle. “It’s true. I like people. I like Mercy. I might even like you. Liking you just won’t prevent me from killing you.” I think she was lying, not on the last bit, but on the first. I couldn’t be sure though, because her human scent never changed. “So, teaching the alpha’s kids how to hack, huh? Does he know?”

I froze, and my pulse skyrocketed. “How did you know?”

“Chill out, I heard you guys talking about it.” She had heard us talking about it underneath Jesse’s music and the other conversations in the house. How long had she stood in front of the door before ringing? Wait, I didn’t want to fucking know.

I decided on a safer bet and ran with a different topic. “Why bring Magic cards to a meeting with the vamps and gobs?”

“Because Marisila will be a dear and make us wait. Also if I build the deck at the house, Jacob will see me and he’ll devise a way to counter it. So when I unleash the deck he’ll be like ‘ha ha motherfucker, you thought.’ Except he won’t because Jacob doesn’t swear. So I have to be sneaky.”

For an awkward few seconds we were quiet, or I was quiet. Agent Blackcat was humming something in that torn-up voice of hers, leaving me severely unsettled. I scrambled for something to say, after that revelation, but nothing came. Finally, her voice almost thoughtful, the crazy bitch herself said. “I won’t spread the knowledge about Mercy being one of Coyote’s children, and my birdies won’t talk to anyone but me.”

“A birdie will talk to anyone who fucking pays them.” I said before I thought it.

I know she was smiling, and I did not look, because my wolf knew if I saw that smile I would be crashing the car and running for the hills. “Not my birdies.” She said, and there was something other about her voice, like a werewolf when the wolf takes over, but unlike a werewolf, her sent didn’t change. At all. And it was such a weird sent too! As if someone had taken every humans’ sent on the planet, then diluted it till only the basics remained. That was it. That was her sent. Nothing smelled like that. Not even humans smelled like that. So fucking annoying.

That effectively killed the conversation. Not just killed it, slaughtered it.

The worst part though?

She was amused at my uncomfortableness, at my fear. She was amused at the fact that I, fourth in pack ranking, was fucking terrified. She radiated smug amusement, but not only that, she radiated hunger. She was amused and hungry and that scared me, it scared my wolf, and it reminded me of what Logan had said. That if people were jerks to her she would be less likely to kill them. Damn fuck it. I’d been going about this all wrong. Which was almost funny because normally I was a jerk. She had literally scared the jerk right out of me, the bitch.

“Would you fucking stop that you crazy ass bitch.” I snapped, and I sounded more angry then scared, which was good. I was angry, because the fourth in a pact should not be scared that easily. She hadn’t even done anything truly terrifying.

She laughed, and this time it was real. I hadn’t realized all her other laughter was fake until she laughed for real. She was a good faker. It was still horrible and scratchy, but it was somehow smoother, richer, and had an undertone, as if something else was laughing with her. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the aura of amusement and hunger was gone. “Good call,” She said, and her voice sounded honestly cheerful as well, “I was about to kill you.” 

“That not fucking creepy at all.” I muttered.

“It’s true.” She said, and her voice was, I think, for the first time honestly truthful. I could hear the truth in it, and that was . . . weird. “The people I am most likely to kill are the ones I hate and the ones that fear me. I’ll still kill the ones I like, I just might hesitate.”

“What about the ones you love?” What was I doing? Mouth, shut the fuck up! Or at least say stuff in an accusatory tone!

“Love is for mortals and those who can afford it.” Her voice sounded bitter, and angry, not directed at me, but at herself? It sounded like the words to an argument that had been repeated over and over, but still managed to have heat to it. 

“Werewolves are immortal.” I pointed out.

“No. You’re just hard to kill.” Aaannnddd there was the hunger again. I looked in front and behind me, and on the sides of the road. Clear, and no cops, good. I swerved hard onto the other side of the road, then back onto the correct side. “WHAT THE FU-” She screeched with my tires. When I flicked my eyes over, she had braced herself against both door and seat, fingers digging into plastic and cloth, and her teeth were bared in a snarl. Her fingernails were way too long, and her teeth were just, wrong. I looked back at the road before I started to hyperventilate.

“Put your fucking seat belt back on. I don’t want to be arrested by some damn cop.” I said as calmly as I could manage.

She did, then said slowly with feeling, “What the fuck was that for.”

“Squirrel.” I said.

“It’s night time.” Her voice had gone cold, but there was no hunger in it, so I counted it as a win.

“I know.”

“I could arrest you.” Ohh yeah, she was FBI, wasn’t she? Hard to remember, since she didn’t act like it.

“You won’t” I hope.

She gave a quiet laugh, and I wanted to call it fake, but, it wasn’t her that was laughing. It was entirely something else laughing. Her voice was wrong too. “I see you’ve been listening to Logan.” Her scent still hadn't changed.

“I listen to good advise occasionally.”

She snorted, then said, “Are we there yet?” Her voice was back to normal, and when I looked, she was pulling a book out of her bag.

She was still fucking terrifying, but now that was somewhat manageable. I wondered if that was why she talked card games, and laughed, and acted so ridiculous. As if she was trying to make herself less terrifying, but wasn’t quite sure how to go about it, so everything she did ended up being scarier. It . . . was a weird thought. 

“We’ve got a while to go. Do you need a light for that?” Then a better question. “What the fuck is that about?” If my quick glance had been correct, the title was  _ Please Don’t Tell My Parents I’m a Supervillain.  _

“I don’t need a light. Apparently it's about a group of kids who get superpowers, then accidentally become supervillains. Jacob is making me read it.”

“It looks like a kid book.” It did indeed look like a kid book, it sounded like a kid book.

“When you’re a ancient murder monster like me, you find that kid books are a great break from reality.” I decided not to argue with that statement, and continued driving. The rest of the ride was silent, occasionally punctured by Agent Blackcat’s honest chuckles. 

Jacob was, apparently a good book chooser.  Also, I really didn’t want to know how a kid was making someone as crazy as her read something.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we pulled up to Marisila’s mansion. Stefan was there, which was good. I liked Stefan, and if Agent Blackcat went all murder monster on us, a bloodsucker on my side would be good. I poked her lightly in the shoulder, as if she might pounce and rip out my throat, and she looked up. I assume. Because she still hadn’t taken off the sunglasses. Which meant she was reading a book, in the car, at night with no light, wearing sunglasses. What the fuck. I decided not to focus on that and instead got out of the car to meet Stefan, who was wearing his normal scooby-doo tee-shirt and baggy jeans combo.

He grinned at me, but his smile showed no teeth. “Hey Ben.”

“Hey Stefan.” 

Stefan looked at Agent Blackcat, and his attitude went from relaxed to alert in an heart beat. He held out a hand to her. “You must be Agent Blackcat.”

“You must be The Solder.” There was something so bland in her voice that I had to look at her, and when I did, I realized she had dropped the facade. The creepy, crazy bitch from the crime scene was back.  You could tell in the boneless way she moved toward Stefan, and the short, almost shake of the hand.

Something in Stefan’s face and voice went cold. “This way please, I trust you didn’t bring any holy symbols with you?”

“Nope.” I said.

“God doesn’t believe in me.” Agent Blackcat’s voice was faintly amused, and I successfully did not look in her direction. “So his symbols do not work for me.”

Stefan hesitated. “That is an odd statement.”

This time her voice was very amused. “I’m an odd creature.” She had said creature instead of person. Weird.

Stefan led us through the endless hallways that looked so nice and pretty but smelled of old blood. I was nervous, just slightly, after all, I was a wolf alone in a hive, and I was pretty sure Agent Blackcat would kill me as soon as save me. Soon, we were led into a ornate room with a giant couch, table, piano, and a crazy chandelier. It almost reminded me off- nope not going in that direction.

Agent Blackcat groaned loudly. “Thank the spirits. You would think cards wouldn’t weigh as much as they do.”

Stefan ignored her, which was honestly a good choice, and turned to me. “We’ll wait here till Marisila is ready for us. Wait are those Magic cards?” Stefan’s voice had gone sharp with shock, and I looked to see Agent Blackcat laying cards on the ornate table. It didn’t look so ornate and fancy with cards on it. 

She looked up.”Yeah, you play?”

“No, but Wulfe does.”

Great, now two of the monsters I knew played the same card game. “Do all terrifying people play Magic?”

Agent Blackcat snorted. “Hardly. Most people who play the game are average people.” Stefan and I exchanged incredulous glances as she turned back to her cards. For a second there was stunned silence, then it was punctured by the sharp ring of a phone. Agent Blackcat gave a low growl and dug into her pocket. I had to look, how could I not? Stefan drifted over with me. It was as if he knew that we would have a better chance of taking her down together.

Written in bold text was, SAMANTHA BLACKCAT YOU DID NOT GO TO THE MEETING WITHOUT YOUR SHOES!!!

For a second there was a frozen silence, then she was opening her messages and typing. JACOB MERLYN ALTENDORF YOU SNEAKY LITTLE GIT! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HIDE THE SANDALS!

Almost immediately she got a text back. HOW ABOUT THIS YOU CRAZY GIANT KITTY. WHY ARE THERE CARDS MISSING FROM THE LAND BOX?

She shot back, THE SANDALS?

WHAT SANDALS?

FORGET IT, IT’S TOO LATE NOW. AFTER ALL, I’VE BEEN FOUND OUT. I’M USING LANDS TO ADD STUFF TO A DECK.

WHAT ADDITIONS?

THE NORMAL. DEATH. DESTRUCTION. BAD DECISIONS.

LOL

She flicked over to where Logan had presumably texted her. There was another text waiting. NEVER MIND. I’M NOT DEALING WITH WHATEVER YOU MESS UP.

WHERE’S THE TRUST?

HOW ABOUT THIS? I TRUST YOU TO MESS SOMETHING UP.

With an indignant gasp, Agent Blackcat powered off the phone and shoved it back into her pocket. “I honestly should of left the phone at home.” She said, then she was back to messing with cards or whatever. 

I moved back and stared at Stefan, he stared back at me. We probably had the same expressions of confused horror. What could really be said, except softly, but with feeling, “What the fuck?”

The only answer? Agent Blackcat’s horrible laughter.

Stefan and I drifted closer to the couch till it was between us and the crazy lady. His voice was soft when he said, “That is the person who the FBI sent to speak with us?”

“Yep.” 

“She’s insane.”

“Yep.”

Luckily we didn’t have to wait overly long. Soon one of the other vamps came to collect us, and though I didn’t see Agent Blackcat move, when I went to fetch her, the table was clean of cards. So we followed the vamps deeper into the hive and into a large room. The room was dark, except for a single light that made a quivering circle on the floor. Marisila sat there in an throne-like chair, looking as lovely and deadly as an ornate dagger. Her hair was piled on her head, and she wore a low cut gown the color of blood. With one wave of her hand she dismissed the one vampire, but Stefan stayed with us.

Agent Blackcat stepped in front of us, shoulders straight with none of the slump that she had portrayed at the crime scene. When she moved, it was with the grace of a predator, some creature that killed for a living. Suddenly I realized just how tall she was. I was a couple of inches taller than Adam, and Stefan was between Adam and me, but Agent Blackcat was taller than both of us. She stood there in a mocking parody of Marisila’s beauty. A mass of scar tissue to a living artwork. Unliving artwork, anyway. A woman in a shirt that looked like it had been scrawled on by a kid to the Queen of the Damned who was dressed to impress.

Wait. She wasn’t really wearing a shirt written on by a kid, was she? Oh God, she was. She was insane. Absolutely fucking insane.

The light, accentuating Marisila’s beauty, lit up Agent Blackcat’s broken nose, and the glimpse of teeth that one scar had given us. They were both terrifying, both predators, and both equals. Then Agent Blackcat broke it by giving Marisila a jerky bow and saying, “What a pleasure to meet someone so dangerous as The Blade.”

Unlike some of the other meetings with her, Marisla wasn’t trying to act human. She was a still statue made of marble, gold, and blood. Her dark eyes took in Agen Blackcat’s appearance and she said in her liquid voice. “You are the FBI agent? I expected someone-”

“Prettier to look at? More dressed up? Professional? Not as psychotic?” Agent Blackcat’s rough voice interrupted Marisila’s music. “Most people say something along the same lines.”

Was it my imagination, or had Marisila’s face tightened for a second. “State your warning, Samantha.” Her voice hinted at some intimacy. Wait a minute, Agent Blackcat had never said her first name. Ehh, background check probably. Hopefully.

Agent Blackcat grinned, and it was a perfectly normal, cheery smile, as if Marisila had made a joke. For some reason the smile scared me. “For the past while, some idiot has been walking around killing people and stealing their souls, before they die. Don’t ask me if I’m certain, I happen to be the leading expert on the subject. Most recently, he has made a kill in the Tri-cities, I’m certain someone has informed you of it. We happen to know that his next victim will be much more powerful then some half-breed fae.” She was closer to Marisila now, I hadn’t seen her move, hadn’t even heard her move. “I am here to inform you that you might want to count your people to make sure none are missing. You can make your own investigations if you like, but you will keep us updated on what you find. If we find it first, then we will kill it, and if you play nice and keep us informed, I’ll make sure to keep the blood for you. If you find it first, and it is one of yours, you may dispense justice as you like, but tell us. If it is one of yours, and you keep this knowledge from us, we will find out, then we will kill it. And then I will kill you.” She had been right, I could tell it wasn’t a threat, but a promise.   
I don’t know what happened next, because what it looked like was that a second later, Agent Blackcat’s glasses went flying past my nose, and she had a vampire pinned to the floor with her foot. Her foot had giant claws that dug into the vampire’s neck, and the vampire was utterly still. Her eyes hadn’t moved from Marisila’s, and for the first time I saw them. The eyes were the wrong colors for a human. I have seen light eyes with dark edging, but never black eyes with a gold edging, and it was and odd affect. Her lips were pulled back also, into a wide smile. Her teeth looked like someone had broken a white porcelain vase, then shoved the shards into her mouth without any regard to how teeth are supposed to look. She had a chalice in her hand.

Marisila hadn’t moved a centimeter.

My best guess? Some vamp took offense, lunged at Agent Blackcat, missed, and then Agent Blackcat pinned him. Under a second. That is seriously fast. I didn’t want to know were the chalice had come from, and how it fit into the situation. Or where the giant fucking foot claws and freaky teeth had come from.

Marisila looked down at the vamp. “Are you going to kill him?” Her voice was as cool as a breeze on a summer day.

I made a coughing sound in the back of my throat. This was why I was here, right? Agent Blackcat turned those inhuman eyes on me, then turned back to Marisila and shrugged. “Nope, I don’t kill something unless I get to eat it. And ashes taste, well, like ashes.”

Marisila’s lips turned up into a small smile as Agent Blackcat kicked the vamp back into the shadows. “Reaper.” It didn’t sound like an accusation, just . . . a statement.

Agent Blackcat shrugged and held out the chalice, I couldn’t see what was in it. “If you say so. A token of our good will.”

Marisila moved, her arm linking with Agent Blackcat’s, and her hand gripping the chalice. She tipped it back and drank. When she pulled back, her lips were the same color of her dress, and glistening. She dropped the chalice, and it cracked on the floor, the inside of the cup was stained red. 

Blood. I hadn’t smelled blood. How had I not smelled blood? 

Marisila licked her lips and hummed appreciatively, her arm still interlocked with Agent Blackcat’s. Then she stepped back, and when she looked at Agent Blackcat, her eyes were red. “Your token, Samantha, has been accepted.” She turned, her dress a swirl of color. “Stefan, see them out.”

Stefan, stiff legged, led us out. And I didn’t realize until reaching the car that Agent Blackcat had left both chalice and sunglasses behind her.

Stefan swirled to glare at Agent Blackcat, poking her in the chest. She seemed bored with the whole situation, and didn’t move to stop him. Which was probably a good thing, because if she had stopped him, he would probably end up missing an arm. “What are you,” he hissed.

“Wait a fucking second,” I can’t believe I was playing peacemaker! Me of all people! “Let’s not do anything too damn hasty.”

Agent Blackcat stepped back smoothly, utterly silent, even to my supernatural ears. I should of been able to hear the cloth of her pants move at least, but there was no sound. “I believe your queen already said something along the line of what I am.”

Stefan was very still, as if he might lunge or flee, but didn’t know which. “Reapers don’t exist.”

“They don’t? How very interesting.” Her voice was dry as desert sand.

“Even if they did. A reaper is a European thing, not a Native American thing.”

She laughed, and it was her false laugh. “Little vamp. A reaper is any spirit that serves death. You Europeans just call them reapers, but they have other names.” She sounded very sure of herself.

“Excuse me!” I said, a bit louder than necessary. “We still have to fucking meet Larry tonight. We don’t have time to waste. I still have to be at work tomorrow.”

Stefan looked at me, and inclined his head. “My apologies. Good night Ben.” Then he was gone, most likely teleporting away.

Agent Blackcat was watching me with those not-at-all-human eyes of hers. “Well then. Down down down to goblin town,” she sang softly, so softly I almost didn’t catch it. But the hint of a smile made me think she had done it on purpose.

I just stared at her, I was too tired of being afraid to be startled, and got into my car. After a second she joined me. “What's the address.” I asked, because hell if I know. She told me, then pulled out her book and started to read. I peeled off in the direction of Larry the Goblin King’s house.

We didn’t talk.

 

Blackcat

I wasn’t reading. My Cat was, using my eyes to take in the words and my fingers to flip the pages. Which meant if Ben looked at us, he would probably crash the car, because black with a gold rim? That was my human eye color, when my Cat was using my eyes, my eyes got super freaky. Anyway, I wasn’t reading, I was listening. To the sound of a heartbeat, steadier now that my Cat had put my nose into a book, of the wolf, the sound of blood being pumped through the veins, to the whirling machinery and the creaking of metal that emanated from the car. To the sounds that I caught as we rushed through the world.

To the ghosts that had fled from the vamps at night, but had come when they sensed what I was. I see ghosts, I talk to them, and I used to count them as some of my constant friends. Now, they came close when they sensed me, but ran away when they realized what else lurked in my body.

Ghosts always ran from evil unless they themselves were evil.

In the back of my mind the Other laughed.

My Cat flipped a page.

I focused on the sounds.

I didn’t like cars. Not because they were fast, after all I was faster than a car. Not because they were giant chunks of metal, a deathtrap on wheels. I couldn’t die, so that didn’t matter. No, cars disconnected me not just from the real world, but the other as well. The world where ghosts and spirits resided, where I used to be welcome, although it could be said that I had overstayed my welcome long ago. Long long ago.

The sounds changed from rushing air, and I caught the hint of a conversation. Ben was slowing the car down, and turning down a road. The conversation was coming from that way. My Cat closed the book and tilted my head, borrowing my ears and closing my eyes. When she opened them, I was using them again. Curious much?

**You know what they say about cats and curiosity.** She answered.

_ Curiosity killed the cat. Please let it be so this time. It has been so long scene we’ve hunted a wolf. I’ve almost forgotten what it is like, wolf flesh. _ The Other whispered into our ears.

We ignored him and focused on the conversation. A male and female voice, goblin voices, in the goblin language. I'd never learned the goblin language, but the tone wasn’t hard to pick out. Affectionately amused, slightly worried. They were having a conversation about the meeting.  They needn’t of worried, I rarely haunted goblins. They were so annoying to catch and kill, but still, I had been a long time since I’ve had a challenge. Perhaps . . .

No. No killing tonight, unless I found the murderer. There wasn’t much things I really disliked besides cars, the Other, and my former FBI partner Devan, but Logan’s voice when he got to say ‘I told you so.’ was near the top of that list.

At least no killing creatures that didn’t solely run on instinct.

About five minutes later, Ben pulled up to a quaint little house in the middle of nowhere. I got out, then moved the door and was knocking before the car door had shut. My braid slapped against my back at the sudden movement. For a second nothing happened, then Larry the Goblin King opened the door. He looked at me, looked at Ben, then looked at me again, taking in the eyes.

Because even when I was in control, my eyes were pretty freaky.

He stepped out of the door way, brushed past me and closed the door. “We’ll talk out here” He said, the he looked at Ben and grinned. “Hey Ben.”

Ben smirked back, it was a fairly good smirk, but I could down better. Centuries of practice and scars tend to increase the power of smirks. “Dude.”

Then Larry turned to me, crossing his arms, and glaring. “State your message hunter.” The normal air of goblin ineptitude was gone.

I was getting all the cool titles this trip. Reaper, hunter crazy bitch. It was almost funny. “For the past while, some idiot has been walking around killing people and stealing their souls, before they die. Don’t ask me if I’m certain, I happen to be the leading expert on the subject. Most recently, he has made a kill in the Tri-cities, I’m certain someone has informed you of it. We happen to know that his next victim will be much more powerful then some half-breed fae. I am here to inform you that you might want to count your people to make sure none are missing. You can make your own investigations if you like, but you will keep us updated on what you find. If we find it first, then we will kill it, and if you play nice and keep us informed, I’ll make sure to keep the eyes for you. If you find it first, and it is one of yours, you may dispense justice as you like, but tell us. If it is one of yours, and you keep this knowledge from us, we will find out, then we will kill it. And then I will kill you.” Logan tended to change the speech slightly for the audience, I didn’t. If it worked, it worked.

Larry looked unimpressed. That was fine, his scent might not of changed, and his heartbeat might be stable, but I could feel his fear on my skin like mist. It made me hungry, well, hungrier. “What makes you think you can kill me?”

I smiled cheerily, and I could feel a little bit of the Other in it. My teeth had probably done the creepy thing. Suddenly the fear I felt was more than just a little. “Oh me? If you can’t kill me, then I can kill you.” And nothing could kill me, I knew this, because a lot of things had tried.

I had the scars to prove it.

Fatal scars.

I looked at Ben, and the car I would be stuck in with him, then I looked at Larry. Ehh, who cares, my diplomacy time was over. I’d delivered the messages, and I wanted to kill something, badly. I’d been good and not killed anything today, not even the stupid vamp. I would reward myself with a rabbit or something. I looked at my nonexistent watch. “Well gentlemen, I would love to say that this had been a pleasure, but truly? Where is the fun in scaring people if you don’t get to eat them after? I bid you adu.”

I didn’t stick around. I sprinted away, full speed, and I felt the air rake against my skin like claws as I moved. It was time to hunt, and get the taste of diplomacy out of my mouth. And get rid of the lingering dizziness coming from filling a chalice with my blood.

After all, blood loss took longer to fix then bone and muscle for some reason. And that had been a lot of blood I’d given up.

I pushed those thoughts away, and felt my Cat rise up close to the front of my mind. The Other was there too, to a lesser extent. I felt a smile widen across my face.

Time to hunt. Time to kill. Time to feed.


	5. Chapter 4

Mercy

It was maybe thirty minutes after Ben and Blackcat left when there was a knock at the door. Adam and I looked up from where we were trying to convince Jesse and Aidan to tell us exactly what bad influence Ben was being now, but Jesse had her innocent face on and Aidan wasn’t talking. I had a sneaking suspicion that whatever our techno-geek British werewolf was teaching them, it wasn’t completely legal. And that we probably shouldn’t know in case we needed to plead plausible deniability in court.

“Mercy, I need to talk to you.” A voice, my not-dad’s voice, Coyote’s voice. I looked at Adam, Adam looked at me, we looked at Jesse and Aidan. I went up to go to the door, Adam stayed to integrate the kids. Mate bonds were awesome like that. When I opened the door, Coyote stood there, smiling wide and arms outstretched. “Mercy, how are you?”

I shut the door behind me. “What,” I said with exasperation in my voice and a scowl on my face, “Do you want.”

His smile grew wider, a bit more nervous, and he dropped his arms. I started to wonder whether stepping outside had been a good idea. “What? Can I not check up on my daughter? How’s the little one?” His voice was too innocent, and I swore for a second he looked at my stomach.

“No, you can not just check up on me. When we see each other, bad things happen, to me. And Jesse and Aidan are fine, thanks for asking. Why are you here?” I crossed my arms over my chest, and glared at him.

“Well,” He dithered, “I’m here to warn you-”

“Oh, about Agent Blackcat? Garry told me you had an extreme reaction to her presence.” It was almost nice, him coming to check up on me, if he hadn’t thrown me into dangerous situations before. Literally. 

Coyote’s face paled slightly, though his scent didn’t change. “So you’ve met her? She’s bad news Mercy, bad news. You need to leave her alone.”

“Actually,” I said with a shrug,”I really can’t leave her alone. Considering she’s been assigned to a case that is threatening one of our wolves. Perhaps you could tell me something about why I should be so wary of her? Like what she is?” Though only an idiot wouldn’t be afraid of her, and I was vaguely hoping that whatever she was, she came with a kryptonite. 

Coyote shifted uncomfortably, although I’d never seen him do that. “She’s old . . .”

“How old?”

Coyote made a face. “I’m not actually sure. My kind get some of our power from the stories told about us, and she’s older then most of those stories.”

“So she’s older than you?” Which meant she was old, really old, maybe older than Bran.

“No, she’s older then our height of power.” He froze for a second. “Do you remember the creature I mentioned when we were spying on Goyote?”

I felt the blood drain from my body. “She’s Wendigo?” That was, that was bad. I had done some research on that creature after Coyote had mentioned it, and they were not good stories.

“Wwwweeellll, not exactly.” He drew out the words, and used a singsong voice as if that made the situation any better. “Technically, the Wendigo doesn’t exist, at least not exactly how it is portrayed in the stories today. She was the one who started the myth, and later another creature started to carry the name. But yes, she is, was, Wendigo.” He shuffled his feet, and for the first time, he actually looked scared. Truly scared, more than scared. Terrified. “She was a god once as well, but gave that up.” A pause. “I think.”

My head was reeling, I reached out and gripped the porch railing hard. “What?” I rasped out. “She’s a god? Tell me we aren’t going to have another incident like the one with the volcano god.”

“No?” He said, and I didn’t like the way he phrased it. “Probably not? Anyway, just a heads up, most likely nothing to worry about. I’ve heard she’s mellowed out in the past few years. Maybe. Hopefully. Aaannnyywwwaaayyy, keep the little one safe.” Then he was gone, with his sent fading in the air.

“What the heck?” I gasped out into the empty air. I heard footsteps, and the door opened behind me. Adam stood there, eyes narrowed and amber. “What the heck?” I repeated, with as much emphasis as I could put on three words.

 

Blackcat

There was a shift in the air, a change from emptiness to occupation. Faint sounds assaulted my ears, footsteps, heavy breathing, the sound of a body hitting the ground with force. I stopped chewing and started listening. The sounds had been too faint to be human, which was a good thing. Most humans would run at the sight of me crouching down with the carcass of a rabbit hanging from my mouth. My human mouth. I’d managed not to get too much blood on me, and had even taken my shirt off to keep the blood off of it, the shirt being a gift from Jacob. Also because Jacob and Logan had a running bet on whether or not I could keep it clean of blood. But that's besides the point, I was no longer alone.

I swallowed my mouthful of rabbit and listened again to the sounds as they repeated, not entirely in this world. I stood and looked around, and realized, for the first time, that I had stumbled close to the crime scene. Which meant the sound I was hearing was probably from the dead man, and not really from the dead man, and not really from a ghost either. Aren't complications just great?

**It’s still here? Even after the soul was taken? Amazing.**

_ How about we eat it instead of admire it. It wouldn’t break poor Logan’s morals if we ate a fragment of a ghost. _

Shut up, the both of you!

I crouched back down and tossed the rabbit aside, I’d already eaten the good parts anyway, and hefted my messenger bag back on my shoulder and waited. The sounds went on, again and again, fainter and fainter. “Come on,” I hissed, “Do something else, you’re starting to bore me. And things that bore me get eaten.” The sounds paused, then I caught the faint sight of something standing where the body had lain before. My Cat took control of my eyes, and everything came into sharp focus. 

The man had been in his mid twenties, though I hesitate to call him a man now, he was, after all, a fragment. Some part of the soul that had escaped being captured. So the one doing this was a novice, or this man had been too powerful to completely steal his soul. Possibly both. Interesting, and information that could be useful later. The man had a bland face, with bland eyes, a bland haircut, and wore everyday bland clothing. Except he was not overly bland because his mouth had no teeth and his fingertips were gone and his clothing was covered in blood. Not pleasant, but I’ve seen worse, done worse, and the sight of all that blood was making me hungry, well, hungrier.

The man moved slightly, turning toward me while backing away. The sound of footsteps, the breathing, and the thump repeated as he did so. A smile tugged at my lips and twisted over my teeth, like all the dead, he was drawn and repulsed by my dual nature.

_ Hello, prey. _ The words were a soft croon in my mind, barely there, but still easy to hear.

The man, in response the the Other’s hungry thought, drifted backwards slightly. I moved, quicker then he could, and the next thing the fragment knew was my fingers around his throat. His eyes widened as he tried to pull away, but I had stepped from one world to the next, and he was no longer incorporeal. “Now, how would you describe your murderer?” I said, my voice as cheerful as possible when strangling a fragment of a ghost.

He scrambled at my hands, and blooms of frost appeared on my skin. I rolled my eyes, and heard my voice go deeper, and the growl more pronounced, felt jagged teeth scrape my lips as I uttered the words. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, you’re dead, you don’t need to breathe.”

The hands stilled on mine, and my skin started to burn were cold seared it. Words flickered past my ears, as if he were being smothered by a blanket and was very far away. But I had good ears.  _ “Man.” _

“Good,” I loosened my grip slightly, “Now we are getting somewhere. What else?”

_ “All I saw. I swear.” _

I dropped him, then punched him, and my fist froze on contact. The ice on my skin cracked as I seized him by the throat again. “Useless.” I growled through no-longer-human teeth. Blood wet and froze on my hand from where my fingernails had punched through my skin.

_ “Wasn’t killed here.” _

“Then where.” The words were a low rumble in my throat. An order instead of a question. A warning of what would come if he did not tell. Even though technically it was not possible to eat a ghost unless you have a bond with it first.

_ “Was home, then dark, then a place with no sounds.” _ The sounds of footsteps started up again, louder, with an odd undertone. A not entirely human undertone, so easy to hear in the land of the not-living. He was starting to repeat, and could help me no more. He had given me more information then expected though, powerful even if only something barely there.

I let him go and stepped back to the world of the living, and my Cat stopped using my limbs to travel between the two worlds. I flexed my hands and watched the blue skin turn back to its normal color, watched the blood fleck away and the wounds in my palms knit together. In the world of the living, ghosts and fragments were powerless unless given power. In their world, they could be dangerous. Used to be I could travel there with no repercussions, but nowadays I needed Cat to control me to do so.

As I flexed my digits into a semblance of a working order, I listened. The wind howled overhead, somewhere a coyote sang, there were the sounds of grasses rustling, and the shifting of dirt. The faint scratching of bugs and rodents, the thump of a rabbit as it ran towards it’s burrow. A faint scream echoed on the air, so faint it must of been a long way off. I frowned, even this far away I knew that voice. It was Jacob's voice. I adjusted my bag and ran.

_ Better run quickly, wouldn’t want to lose our precious little angel. _ The words were a whispered song in my mind even as the wind drowned out my own reply.

 

Jacob

The visions of the future clung to my mind as I jerked away from dreamland and back to reality. Prophecy is not an exact science, what you see isn’t always what you get. During the dreams I get assaulted by every version of what is to come, and I only remember what is most likely to happen, but occasionally one of the things I keep with me is an outcome that will never be seen again. I hoped this was the case, for what I saw had not been pleasant.

Logan, spread eagle on concrete floor, throat and stomach ripped open, entrails trailing into bloody puddles beneath his body. I could see my hand and arm, twisted to where the bone broke through the skin, blood crusting beneath my fingertips. I know my chest did not move, and that I saw through dead eyes. Blackcat was there too, body twisted somewhere between human and something else, caked in blood and eyes glowing with shifting colors. She was pleading, bargaining with something that could just be seen, beckoning, welcoming. I wanted to tell her to stop, to not make a deal that she would come to regret, but Blackcat’s voice was raised high and shrill and broken. “Anything. I would trade anything.”

That was about the time I woke up screaming bloody murder, with those lovely images still fresh in my mind. My door banged open, hitting the wall with a sharp smack. Logan stood there, eyes and hair wild, pajamas flapping. “Jacob! Are you?”

I gave my sibling a trembling smile, drew my knees up, and wrapped my arms around them. “I’m going to be fine. It was just a bad dream.” Blackcat had been teaching me to lie, and the first step she taught was to convince yourself the lie was the truth, then you wouldn’t be lying, would you?

Unfortunately, Logan had known me forever, and knew when I was fudging the truth. He walked over, sat down beside me, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into his grip, and relaxed slightly. “Want to talk about it?” He said, voice soft and understanding.

I shook my head slightly. “No, not really.”

There was a whup of air, and Blackcat stood in the doorway, fingers digging into the wood of my door frame. Her skin was spotted with blood, her hair still caught in the motion of going forward snapped like a snake in our direction. For a second she stared at us, eyes wild and gold and black, teeth a horrid mix of carnivore and human.Then she relaxed, and her teeth went fully human and her eyes changed to their normal black with gold rims. She prized her fingers out of the door frame and looked at Logan. “What happened. I heard a scream.”

Logan looked at Blackcat and grimaced. “Says he had a bad dream.”

Blackcat looked back at me, eyes sharp and cunning. “Did you?”

“Yeah.” I said with as much exhaustion as I could manage. Flavor your lies with some kind of emotion that's not panic and they become harder to spot. That’s what Blackcat says, but Blackcat can summon a bored voice or a hungry voice and then people are too scared to be worried over whether she’s lying or not.

“Well then,” she said, and with a sinking feeling I knew she hadn’t bought it. “We’ll talk about it after I put this stuff up.” She hefted the messenger bag and left the room with one of those quick motions that don’t even leave a blur in the air.

I groaned and leaned further into Logan, alive and well Logan, Logan who was not a body on the floor. I didn’t want to tell them what I had seen, because the vision had given me nothing that I could use to prevent it, and Blackcat would not see why it would be such a bad idea to strike a deal with the almost-there thing. What I wanted was to be snuggled between Blackcat and Logan watching a movie, with Blackcat complaining and Logan grinning. I wanted them both alive and happy.

Maybe if I had been given a clue to what had killed us, I would have told them. But to tell them know would be to worry them. So I would stick with my tale of the bad dream, and hope that they would buy my story. Hope that my vision would not come to pass.

There was another whup of air and Blackcat was sitting on the other side of me. Her eyes were shadowed but she smiled at me. “So, spill.” Her voice was as kind as possible for a rough growl. And she wondered why I wasn’t scared of her, when all I saw in my dreams was her doing anything to keep me and Logan safe.

“It was just a bad dream, I swear.” I whined. I was thirteen, I could make decisions on whether or not to tell them about what I saw without them worrying. 

“UH huh.” Logan said, squeezing me slightly.

“Sure,” Blackcat sang, “Just a dream.”

“Can we watch something, please? Just to get it out of my mind.” I begged. They were so over protective, when they were the ones who needed protection.

Blackcat looked at Logan, and they did that thing adults do when they meet eyes and speak with facial expressions. Finally Blackcat looked at me and made a face. “Fine, we’ll watch something.”

And we did. We watched Pokemon, and with the sun and cheer of the show, the images of blood and gore and the twisted thing that had been Blackcat faded from my mind. All except the thing that hadn’t been fully present, the thing that didn’t belong in this world. The thing that reminded me of the creature that had lead me to Blackcat three years before.

It had been at our old house, with the all the creaks and groans that old houses have. Logan had just come back from work, her face haunted and drawn, a bit of dirt and ash smeared onto one cheek. I had been sitting at the kitchen table doing homework when I had seen it, just in the corner near the roof. It was a distortion of the air, something that made the light bend in odd ways. I couldn’t make out the details, just the outlines. Limbs like a granddaddy long legs, wings that were bat-like and stretched thin, a body that was serpentine and a head that was narrow and squashed compared to the drawn out length of the rest of the creature. The only solid thing was the eyes, flecks of grey that stared out between worlds. It met my gaze, and then flicked its eyes at the door.

I got one of those premonitions that I get occasionally, the ones that I get when my life isn’t in danger exactly, but something important was going to happen soon. I slid out of my chair and called to Logan. “We need to set a third plate at the table.”

Logan walked into the kitchen, a frown on her face. “Where are you going?” Her voice was worried, but she trusted me and my abilities.

I looked at the creature that now hovered by the door, the glint in its eyes urgent. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

Her face shifted slightly. “Your my brother, I can’t stop worrying. You sure you’ll be safe?”

I smiled, “Positive,” then I followed the creature out the door. The creature lead me around the city, till we came across a bridge that stood high over the river. There was a woman standing there, hands thrust deep into her pockets and feet balancing at the very edge. The wind was hitting her from behind, and her braid snapped out above air and water. The road, which should of been busy, was dead silent. The thing landed by her feet, looked up and backed away, then disappeared.

The woman moved, a fluid movement that raised her to her tiptoes, she tilted her head up to the sky and stretched, and for a second, it looked like she could hold that pose forever. I lunged forward, worry coursing through my veins. “DON'T JUMP!” I screamed. 

The women’s balance broke, and for a second she tottered, then she was twirling and standing balanced on the bridge, coiled and ready to pounce. Her face was a mass of scar tissue, one scar gave a glimpse of white shards that could have been teeth, her eyes were black with a gold rim. “What did you say?” She growled menacingly, but her voice was slightly confused.

“I said”, jogging up so I didn’t have to yell, “Don’t jump. I don’t know what you’ve heard about drowning, but I’ve heard hitting water is as painful as hitting concrete. It was in the Mythbusters episode I watched.” 

She snorted. “I know what hitting water from this high feels like. Why did you tell me not to jump?” There was something vaguely threatening about her words.

I blinked. “Because it was the right thing to do.”

She drew back as if I had slapped her, and her eyes shifted color, too fast to follow. “The right thing to do? The right thing to do! The right thing to do would have been to sneak up behind me and push!” She frowned suddenly and leaned forwards toward me, tilting her head and slitting her eyes. “You’re not afraid. Why aren’t you afraid” Definitely confused.

“Why would I be? You haven’t given me a reason to be afraid. Also, whatever you’ve done, that's no reason to push you off a bridge.” How could I explain that every bone in my prophetic body was telling me that she wasn’t something to be feared?

She laughed, a rusty thing that sounded like she wasn’t quite sure how to go about doing so. “Why? As if you need a reason. I could name all the things that I have done that would send you running and wishing that you would have pushed me, but it would take too long and I am not one of those who give melodramatic speeches.”

“You just did.”

“What?”

“You just gave a melodramatic speech.”

Her eye twitched, and a smile crawled across her face. Her hand, scared as her face, raised to touch the corner of her mouth, as if to make sure she was actually smiling. As if she hadn't authorized the movement of her mouth. I looked past her to see the thing there, which caught my eye and nodded, then disappeared, this time for good.

I looked back at the woman. “Would you like dinner? My sisters making it, she’s a very good cook.”

The woman looked down at me, confusion written across every line of her face. “What’s your name, child who is too foolish to be afraid?”

“Jacob Altendorf. What’s yours?”

The woman blinked. “Samantha Blackcat.”

“That's not a real name.”   
She smiled again, just the faintest curl of her lips, but it was there. “I made it up a long time ago. I’m just reusing it.”

I thought for a second. “I don’t think that's how names works. Anyway, come on.” I turned around and started walking.

After a few seconds, the woman named Blackcat caught up. “Where are we going?”

I smiled. “Home.”

That had been three years ago, and I had never seen the dragon-creature or anything like it again. Not until the vision I had dreamed tonight.


	6. Chapter 5

Mercy

You would think that after everything that I had managed to accomplish, that I would be able to get a good night's rest. But no. I woke up warm, with Adam beside me and my blanket bunched up around me, and my phone ringing. I was bleary, I was tired, so I turned over and let it ring. And ring. And ring. Adam was awake, his warm eyes looking at me. “You might want to pick that up. Some of us have super secret government meetings we have to attend to in the morning.”

I groaned. “I’ve already had to speak to Coyote tonight, I don’t want to speak to anyone else.” It was what, four, five in the morning? I got to bed at maybe ten, if I was lucky? I had a store to open today, and cars to fix. So I was going to sleep. 

The phone stopped ringing, then it gave the buzz of an incoming text message. “Looks like whoever it is isn’t going to let you go.” He reached over me, pulled my phone from the charger, and looked at the screen. His face darkened. “It’s an unknown number.” He flipped the phone around and I read the message on the screen.

It was short and sweet, and I knew immediately who it was from. COYOTE’S CHILD, it read, MEET ME AT THE CRIME SCENE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. 

I stared at the phone and restrained the basic urge to throw it across the room and scream. “How did she get my number?!”

“It’s Agent Blackcat, isn’t it.” He growled slightly. “Let me call her.”

I was about to say was that he probably shouldn’t considering that she was FBI and Coyote was scared of her, but the phone buzzed again before I could point that out. WHAT MY FAVORITE FRIEND MEANS TO SAY IS THAT SHE REQUIRES YOUR ASSISTANCE WITH SOMETHING. AND THAT THING HAS TO BE DONE AT THE CRIME SCENE. PLEASE. - JACOB.

I continued to stare at the phone in my hand, then I gave it to Adam, turned over, and stuck my face into the pillow. I didn’t have time for this. I was too tired to deal with this. “What could she want your help with?” Adam’s voice was soft with concern and suspicion.

I lifted my head just enough to speak. “The only thing I can think of is that she needs my ghost seeing abilities or something.” I had a sick feeling in my gut.

Adam was looking at me, I could feel his gaze. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

I made a give me motion with my hand. “It could help us keep our wolves safe. I’ll have to tell Tad that I might be late to work.”

“Make sure to take one of the wolves with you. I’m reasonably sure that she won’t kill you, and I can’t go. I have to be at that meeting today.”

“I’ll stop by and pick up Mary Jo, she’s super effective.”

“And you-”

I waved my hand and Adam laughed, a warm sound that heated up my insides. “Yeah, yeah mom, I'll make sure to grab my sword and gun.”

I pushed myself up and swung my feet onto the floor. Adam was watching me, a smile on his lips. “What did Mary Jo do this time?”

I started to laugh as I texted Tad.

. . .

I didn’t actually pick up Mary Jo, instead I called her on the way. I listened to the old Jetta as the phone rang and hoped it would stay together long enough to make it.  A few seconds later Mary Jo’s voice came over the speaker. “What do you want.” She paused, as if she realized how accusatory the words came out.

“I need you to meet me at the crime scene I was called to the day before yesterday. The one were we met the superFeds.”

“The superFeds?” I could hear her getting up and getting ready. “The creepy bitch and the fae witch?”

So Ben’s nickname for Agent Blackcat had spread. I wondered how that was going to turn out. “Yep, those are the ones.”

“We’re meeting at the crime scene? Why?”

“Because apparently the creepy bitch needs to talk to me about something. You know where the crime scene is?”

“Yeah, it’s near my place. Which is why you called me?” I smiled, but didn’t answer. After a few minutes of silence, she started speaking again. “Do you think the fae witch is planning to set up locally?”   
I frowned. “Possible, but the superFeds are only supposed to stay here for as long as it takes them to catch this guy.”

“Huh.” She hung up, and I drove in silence after that, thinking. We didn’t have a Tri-Cities coven any more, and when Logan had claimed to have spoken to the local witches, I’d figured he’d meant the ones closest to the Tri-Cities. He had said he wasn’t a black witch, but in certain circumstances would use whatever power was available to him. So did that make him a grey witch? I still wasn’t exactly sure about the difference between white, grey, and black witches. Except black witches got their power from the pain of others and white witches got their power from self sacrifice. I knew black magic was almost impossible to not use once you’d started to use it, but maybe it was different for someone who was half fae.

Or maybe Logan had someone to pull him back from the brink. Someone like his brother, who was apparently like an anchor for Agent Blackcat as well.

I hoped Logan wasn’t a black witch, I liked Logan. He was funny, and honest. He was also invested in helping, not standing around and waiting for the murderer to be caught. 

Soon my headlights were cutting swaths into the dark and onto dirt. I was close to the scene of the crime, and outside the moon was covered in clouds. Almost gone, three, maybe four days left of light. Soon you wouldn’t be able to see it. Then the rotation would start over again.

 I pulled into the spot I had taken last time, and turned the engine off. I could see a figure moving, pacing before the yellow tape, strides long and fluid. If Agent Blackcat had noticed me pulling up, she didn’t say anything. I didn’t get out, with Coyote’s words about Wendigo heavy in my mind. I could see where someone could make her that monster. In the flickering beams of moonlight, her form was thin and elongated, the way she moved smooth and hungry. You would have to be blind to look at her and not see something that could kill you as easily as she breathed. Maybe easier.

Another car pulled up, Mary Jo’s. This time Agent Blackcat stopped moving, back to us, head tilted as if she was listening to something far away. I got out when Mary Jo got out, and together, we advanced. As we got closer, the smell of human-that-was-not-human got stronger. Mary Jo wrinkled her nose. I took a deep breath. “We’re here. What do you want?”

She moved, beside me, slightly crouching, still facing the direction of the yellow tape. The glasses were new, large and bulky and red, they covered more of her face then before. Her voice was as rough as ever. “How do you know when a ghost is near?”

Mary Jo, who had stiffened slightly at Agent Blackcat’s quick movement, placed herself between me and the superFed and growled. “Well,” I said, “You have to answer something first. How did you sneak a goblet of blood past Ben?” He had reported in, voice slightly panicked as he drove home.

A corner of Agent Blackcat’s mouth quirked up, though that could of been the moonlight playing tricks with her scars. “I didn’t, I only used the goblet and filled it with my blood when the idiot reacted to me threatening his queen.”

I frowned. “The goblet was filled.”

“So it was.” A pause. “You chose good. He walked the line between amusing and annoying very well.”

“Ben,” said Mary Jo, “is just annoying. And Samantha Blackcat isn’t an actual name.”

Agent Blackcat moved again, suddenly beyond the tape, one piece held in her hand. She bowed theatrically. “Come on in. You might want to muzzle your wolf, Coyote’s child. There is only so much amusing I can take before it becomes annoying. I’ve had a long night, and diplomacy and Pokemon wear me out. How do you sense ghosts?”

“I don’t like her.” Mary Jo growled, softly, so only I could hear.

“Neither do I.” I said back, in the same voice. Agent Blackcat laughed, a broken sound. She wasn’t looking at us. After a moment's hesitation, I followed her past the tape. Mary Jo followed me, I could feel her glare, though I wasn’t sure who she was focusing her gaze on. “What do you mean by sensing ghosts? I would assume the answer would be by seeing them.”

Agent Blackcat let go of the tape and moved to where the body was previously. She dropped to the ground, placed her fingers on the dirt. There was a frown in her voice. “Wrong. I would have thought your father would have taught you something.”

There was something in the way she said ‘your father' that made me think that she didn’t see Coyote in the greatest light. “He doesn’t like you very much.”

“That,” she said, rubbing some dirt between her fingers, “is because I kill him every time I see him.”

There was a pause. “Why?” I think Mary Jo and I said it at the same time.

“Because,” she pushed herself up, “Once upon a time he had the chance to stop many deaths by killing one. Yet he didn’t, so I will kill him for every death suffered because he was a coward.”

“That,” Mary Jo said, “sounds like you’re blaming him. And I doubt that you care about the death of many.”

She turned and smiled at us. It was a terrible smile, lips twisted over teeth that glittered white. “I’m not blaming him. I know full well who to blame. And I don’t. And it’s not just him. Any one of Them had a chance to stop it, and none of Them did. And now I must teach Coyote’s child to do something she should already know how to do. How do you break through a fae’s glamor?”

The change of topic was so sudden I nearly stumbled. “Through sent. Why?”

She moved, I felt hands land lightly on my shoulders. Both Mary Jo and I were moving instantly. I jerked away from Agent Blackcat’s grip, drawing my sword and turning as Mary Jo lunged at Agent Blackcat, her punch fluid and sharp. 

The suerFed moved out of the way of the punch, and from the next one. She laughed, throwing her hands up. “I wasn’t attacking!” She burst out between the broken howling, “If I wanted to kill her, she would already be dead! Do you not want to find this guy before he kills one of your wolves?” She stopped laughing, but she still smiled, and her teeth were jagged and sharp. Her fingers were tipped with claws.

“Mary Jo, stop! It’s okay.” She paused, and I could see the amber gleam in her eyes. I turned to Agent Blackcat. “Don’t touch me.” I put as much of the alpha command in it as possible.

Mary Jo moved till she was standing in a ready position, her eyes were fixed on the superFed. “You’re fast.”

Agent Blackcat looked at me and said, “Breathe.”

“Excuse me?”

“Breathe. Smell. Push past the scents that are here and look for the scents that are not.”

I stared at her. “That's very vague. What exactly are you wanting me to do?” 

She sighed, an infuriated sound. “When I was here earlier, I located a fragment. The murderer had failed, perhaps he was inexperienced, perhaps the prey was simply to strong, perhaps both. Either way, a fragment of the prey’s soul is here. As it is now, it is useless, but you can strengthen him, and we can use that to see if we can get a description of the killer.”

Mary Jo was staring at Agent Blackcat. “You’re crazy,” she breathed.

It almost made sense. “What am I smelling for?”

Mary Jo turned to me. “You’re crazy too.”

“Wood,” Agent Blackcat said, “grass, green and growing things. Half-fae. Death, but recent. Fear, terror, blood. Not pain. An absence.” 

“An absence.” I didn't think I could put anymore sarcasm on those words.  


Agent Blackcat leaned back on her feat, head tipped back. She stood like that for a long time, looking as if the slightest push would knock her over. Finally, she spoke. “I can hear him. Footsteps. Soft. Breathing. Heavy. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. THUMP. The sound of a body hitting the ground. A pause. A rift. Repeat. You should smell it now Coyote’s child.”

“Absolutely fucking insane.” Mary Jo breathed.

But I could smell it, slightly. I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply, shifted through the scents. I caught one, growing things. Then the rest came flooding through, terror, blood, death, power, the slightest hint of brimstone. And something absent, I wasn’t sure how to explain it exactly, the closest I could get was that it was like something you hadn’t known you were smelling till the scent was gone. I opened my eyes, and floating over where the body had lain was a form. “I see you.” I whispered.

“Summon him.” Agent Blackcat growled. She was crouching again, hands planted in the ground. She looked ready to pounce, a creature made to kill.

I didn’t have his name, I didn’t need it. “Come.” He came, and suddenly I could see him clearly. He wore the mangled form his dead body had been. He looked at me, looked at Mary Jo, looked at Agent Blackcat, and panicked.

He turned to flee, but Agent Blackcat was quicker, she blocked his escape, trapping him between the two of us. “Good. Now, prey. Tell me the face of your hunter.” There was something in her voice, something that reminded me of an alpha’s call, but softer, less demanding. It was terrifying. 

He stumbled back. “You-you.” The words wouldn’t come out.

She reached up, put her glasses in her pocket. Her eyes were black, no trace of gold. “Not her, not her. Me. Tell me, and I can cut you free.”

The ghost stared at her, eyes wide. Whatever was in her voice was compelling him, pushing past the fear, smothering it. “His face, it was bland. Normal. Average. Forgettable. He smelled of fire.” His face had gone slack, he didn’t move. He said nothing else, and for a long few minutes we waited in silence.

Agent Blackcat made a face, moved forward, touched his forehead, and he stiffened. She frowned, moved her hand to his chest, grasped something I could barely see. It looked like a string, glimmering faintly between her fingers. I’d seen strings like that before. She twisted her fingers, it broke, and suddenly the ghost was in sharp focus. “Leave this world,” she murmured, voice still full with that soft, commanding thing. 

And just like that, within the breath it took to speak those words, the ghost was gone.

I stumbled back, fingers loose around the grip of my saber. Mary Jo grabbed my arm. “What just happened?”

Agent Blackcat straightened. “We know the face of our murderer. Average, forgettable. He smells like fire. That's something more than we had before.” Her voice was rough again, compelling tone gone.

I stared at her. “What did you do?”

She waved her hands, put her glasses back on her face. I thought I caught a glimmer of gold before the red-tinted lenses covered her eyes. “I sent him on. He’ll hang around for a couple of days, but after that he’ll stay in the spirit world.”

“What? I was told you couldn’t send spirits to the afterlife.”

She laughed again. “Gosh, your naivety is amusing. You can, with the right words. And now you know them. Punch Coyote in the face for me.” Before the sentence had left her mouth, She disappeared, with only the scent of human to mark that she had been there.

 

Blackcat

I was at the house a few minutes later, feet scraping on the pavement of the driveway. Their hunger still tasted sweet on my tongue, wolf, coyote, ghost, all the same. Prey. Logan was standing at the doorway, dressed in a suit, but her hair was mussed, and her eyes were wide. “Get in the car.”

My knees were still bent to absorb the impact of my sudden stop. I straightened, looked at her. “Why?”

She was already moving, keys in hand, rushing to the car. “There’s been another murder.”

Murder meant blood, death, pain. Murder meant food. I blinked, “I don’t want to leave Jacob here.” She looked at me, saw the reasoning in my face, even through the glasses. She ran to the door, ran inside. I could hear her voice, “Jacob, come on!”

His voice, groggy and tired. “Wh-why?

“We aren't leaving you alone.”

She came out a little bit later, pulling Jacob behind her. He was still in his pajamas, hair a mess and eyes blinking sleepily. “Blackcat? What’s going on?”

Logan pushed him into the backseat, then jumped into the front, I slid into the back with Jacob. The car started. “There’s been another murder,” I said, “We’ve been called in. I want you to stay in the car. You’re too young to see.”

He reached up and pulled my glasses off my face, grinning wide though his eyes were sad. “I’ve probably seen worse in my dreams. Why are you taking me?”

Logan spoke, the car was in motion, and I gripped the seat with my claws. The movement wasn’t because of her words. “Blackcat thinks that you could be a target. He has been hunting part-fae, and your abilities are rare.” 

“But I’m not powerful.” His voice was small and confused. Sometimes I forgot he was just a kid. 

“It’s not about power,” a second of silence, I reached over and gripped his hand, “It’s something completely different he wants.”

I could see what he wanted, if I looked into another world and out of the corner of my eye at Jacob. It was there, if you looked, if you knew what to look for. The one who did this collected souls, he needed to target people with souls that could survive being yanked out before the body was ready. He hunted people with big souls.

Jacob had the biggest soul I’d ever seen.

The car ride was silent, or as silent as it ever got for me. I could hear the machines, metal crunching against metal. I could hear the blood pumping in Logan and Jacob’s veins, the whoosh of their breath, the beat of their hearts. Every shift of clothing as it scratched against their skin. The little beeps from Jacob’s phone as he played his puzzle game. He leaned against me as he did so, the shift of his hair against my skin sounded like a gunshot.

Normally I can filter the sounds out, but everything seemed in sharp focus. I was jumping from one crime scene to another. From dumping ground to a place where blood and fear were recent. I had a lead, the first once since the killings began. The hunt was on, and I was ready, every bone in my body full of energy and hunger and the need to hunt.

The car did it’s sudden death screech, I jerked my head up, ears ringing. Jacob’s breath was soft and even, he had fallen asleep. Logan sat stiffly, fingers gripping the wheel. “We’re here.”

I unbuckled and slipped out of the car, Logan was already out, and when I was out, she locked the doors. We walked together, and I could smell the blood on the air, hear the commotion. I kept my head down, eyes narrowed. My glasses were still with Jacob. 

Tony welcomed us in, his heart beat the pattern of the weary and afraid, his voice was heavy. “You’re going to need to tell us whether we need to call Mercy or not.”

“What do you mean?” Logan’s voice had the same exhaustion.

I pushed past both of them and past everyone else clogging the killing ground. Smells teased my nose, death, blood, pain, but no absence. The taste of fear felt heavy on my tongue, like honey. I made my way past people, bodies full of pumping blood and beating hearts, flashing my badge at anyone who attempted to stop me. Someone thrust a pair of gloves into my hands, and after a few seconds pause, I put them on. Soon, I stood in front of the body.

_ Food. _

My Cat didn’t disagree. The soul was gone, she was just meat.

She had been young, late teens or early twenties. She’d been ripped open, flesh exposed to the world. Her arms were heavily lacerated, her bare feet were bloody. Her ghost was crouched beside her body, arms wrapped around knees, sobbing. I reached out pushed the hair out of her face. Her eyes were wide and glazed, staring out into nothing. They were the exact same shade of blue as Jacob's eyes.

And for a second, it wasn’t meat laying on the ground anymore. It was Jacob, ripped open and insides exposed to the world. Jacob’s face frozen in fear with his eyes wide. Jacob, no heartbeat, no breath, dead.

I looked at the ghost, pulled on the power that I still had, even after all these years and tragedies. “Leave this world, be at peace.” She was gone, and I turned back to the body. 

The Other laughed.  _ You’re going soft. Once upon a time you would not of cared. _

**You’re changing, that’s a good thing.**

I touched some of the blood pooled on the ground, brought it to my lips. It tasted like human blood, nothing extra, except the faint taste of plastic, but that was the gloves. Footsteps, I stood, turned. Logan and Tony were coming. “Was it our guy?” Logan’s voice was soft, her face tight.

I shook my head, “No.” There had been a ghost, there was no absence, no strings, no pull, no sense of wrong. Just a body. A dead, bloody body. Meat.

Tony stopped, his voice quiet. “Cantrip guys are here. One of my guys called, said it looked like a werewolf had done it.”

“Wasn’t a werewolf, just a human. Let me talk to them.” Logan caught my eyes, raised an eyebrow. Normally she dealt with Cantrip, but I wanted to deal with them. I didn’t want to be by the body anymore, with the good parts exposed where anyone could eat them. Where I could eat them. In a way, it looked like an offering, just for me. I gritted my teeth and turned away. I could hear a car pulling up, the quiet conversation between two men planning to pin murders on people who didn’t do them.

Perhaps I should kill them, send a message.

One of the policemen looked up, his eyes flashed yellow.

Or perhaps not, at least not yet.

I walked forwards, straight into the path of the Cantrip prey, flashed my badge with bloody, gloved, fingers. “What are you doing here.” A command instead of a question, danger across my shoulders like a cloak.

They looked at me, into my eyes. One, the smart one I guessed, stepped back. Two drew himself up, but I could feel his fear batter against me like wind when I ran. The one who backed up spoke first. “We were called about a killing committed by a werewolf.”

I smiled, wide and cheerful, though the scars twisted it into something more threatening. Something more primal and dangerous. The smile of someone debating which part of the body to eat first. This time both of them backed up. “Your caller,” I spoke softly, my voice was rough with both a growl and tissue damage, “was mistaken. This killing was not committed by a werewolf, but by a human.”

Two drew himself up again. “And how would you know.” He tried to make it a command, but the shake in his voice betrayed him. Weak, easy prey. Cantrip should stop throwing prey at monsters, one day they might get devoured.

“Because,” I whispered, ignoring their common sense, the prey leaned in close, “the guts and heart and lung and liver were still there. Yes the body was ripped to shreds, and yes the insides were exposed, but if it were a werewolf, the body would have been chewed on. But it was not. So therefore, it was a werewolf.”

One was backing up quickly, but Two decided to step closer. “Who are you, exactly?”

I leaned down, so I could look him in the eye with my unnaturally colored ones. I resisted the urge to lunge and bite out his throat. It looked like soft flesh, tasty and fresh. “I’m part of the FBI, and my orders come higher then some bigot whose only dream is to make an ass of himself and start a war he cannot win. Do you understand me, prey?”

Any bluster he had disappeared, and I heard his bowels move, smelt the sudden scent of piss, heard the hammer of his heart. Prey, prey, prey, prey. He backed up, face white, fear growing. “I understand.” He ran to his car, One was already in there, and together they sped off, leaving the sound of squealing tires and the taste of fear on my tongue. 

I stripped the gloves off of my hands, stuffed them in my pockets. I took a few deep breaths to clear my head, then slipped into the car with Jacob. Who slept, unknowing of the bloodbath that almost happened outside the car doors.

 

Logan

I pulled up in front of the mechanic’s shop, Mercy’s shop. Blackcat was at the house with Jacob, so they could get some rest. I remembered the wildness in her eyes, the faintest touch of red, and the sinking feeling that she had made the situation worse, not better. Fear only solved problems in the short run.

I took a deep breath, got out and walked inside. There was a person sitting on one of the chairs, another at the desk. I walked up to him, palmed my badge so he could see and no one else. “Is Mercy here?”

He drew himself up slightly, narrowed his eyes. “Yes, why?” Defensive, dangerous. 

“I need to talk to her, please.” I smiled, weak and tired. The blue eyes of the woman replayed in my mind, it could have been Jacob. I didn’t know what I would do if it had been Jacob.

Mercy’s voice, from the back. “Let her in Tad!”

He looked at me, then waved his hand towards the back door. “That way.”

“Thanks.” I slipped my badge back into my pocket and walked to the back, the workshop. 

Mercy was there, buried up to her elbows in a car's engine. She pulled one hand out, pointed at a tool. “Pass that here please.”

I did so, and even through the gloves, the itch of iron was there. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” she did something with the wrench, pulled herself out fully, wiped her face with greasy fingers, and looked at me. “What do you want?” There was a warieness in her voice. Dealin with Blackcat had that effect on people.

“To warn you.” The truth was always better than lies, the shocking truth more so.

She blinked. “What about?” The wariness in her voice was no longer directed at me, but at the message I brought.

“There was a murder, violent and brutal. One of the policemen called Cantrip, and tried to pin it on a werewolf. Blackcat scared them away, but that might create more problems in the long run.” Mercy winced when I said Blackcat’s name, I couldn't blame her.

“Was it the guy you’re here for?”

“No, thank goodness.” A pause, and I watched her go back to the car. “Anything I can help with?” I needed to keep busy, keep moving, keep the thought of Jacob dead out of my head.

“You could be a tool monkey, pass me that.” We fell into silence, she doing things with cars and me passing her whatever she needed. Soon, we finished, and she grabbed a rag and started to wipe her hands, looked at me. “Have you eaten today?”

I winced. “No, the minute Blackcat got to the house, we left. And then after I finished viewing the crime scene, I dropped Blackcat and Jacob off and then I drove straight here to warn you.”

She jerked her thumb behind her. “There’s a sandwich in the fridge. Eat it. I’m guessing a warning me isn't the only thing you’re here for?”

I shook my head, started to eat the food mechanically. “No, I was going to ask a favor, if possible.”

“A favor?”   
I sighed. “Tomorrow, both me and Blackcat will be busy, and I don't want Jacob alone. He, he might be a target.” I didn’t want to say those words, as if they may make the situation come true. I wanted him to be as safe as possible. “I was wondering if you could send one of your wolves to look after him, not for very long, but it would make both me and Blackcat feel better.”

Thankfully, she didn’t ask why we thought he would be a target. “I don’t see why we can’t.” She reached for a bottle of water, hesitated. “Is, Blackcat like me?”

I swallowed my bite. “As far as I know, no. Why do you ask?”

“Because she can see ghosts, and order them, and free them.” Her voice shook slightly.

I stared at the food in my hand and said, “I don’t think so. I think that stuff is left over from when she was human.” I remembered the time when Jacob had asked, and she had shrugged. No yes, no no, just a maybe. Maybe she’d been human, so long, long ago. Maybe she’d never been human,but she claimed it was too long ago to remember clearly. I sighed. “What did you learn? Blackcat didn’t say.”

Mercy stopped playing with the water bottle and took a swig. “That the killer looked average and forgettable, but smelled like fire.”

I frowned. “Fire could mean fae.” I hoped not, I hoped that a lot.

Mercy shrugged, “or someone who likes setting fires. Or someone like you, fae and witch”

I groaned, finished the sandwich. The food sat like a lump in my stomach. Maybe I shouldn’t of eaten. “I hope it's just someone setting fires.” 

Mercy stiffened, “Someone’s coming, I don’t recognize the car so it’s not one of my regulars.”

“Could be Cantrip.” It was probably Cantrip, stung by Blackcat’s words and now trying to prove that they weren’t afraid of the dark.

She looked at me, her lips quirked up. “Mind playing backup?”

I smiled back at her, brought out my badge. “Don’t mind if I do.”


	7. Chapter 6

Logan

A person who set fires, I hoped that was it. It probably wasn’t, but I could hope and hope I did. Mercy stepped into the waiting room, called to the man who’d been sitting in the chair. I closed my eyes, gripped my badge hard till it felt like it was embedded in my palm. “Charlie, your car is ready.” I heard murmuring, probably to the desk guy, and a moment later she walked back in, took a rag, and wiped her fingers free of grease and oil.

I pointed to my cheekbone with my free hand, and said, “You have grease on your face.”

“Thanks,” she made a face, “does it match my war scar?”   


My lips curled into a smirk, “Yes, yes it does. Were you talking to the desk kid?” The one who was maybe dangerous and maybe not.

She shrugged, “Yep. His name’s Tad.”

I’d heard that name before, I was almost positive of it, but I couldn’t place it. Instead of turning the name over and over in my mind, I turned my badge over and over in my hands, and then after a pause, dropped the glamor on my gloves. They appeared, black silk that disappeared into the sleeves of my suit. I looked back up to see Mercy eyeing my hands.

“So that's how you were holding the iron.” The words were noncommittal, the tone bland, but there was a vague sort of amusement in the set of her mouth.

“Yep,” I straightened, put on a little, half-secretive, half-superior smile. “If anyone asks, I’m full fae.” I murmured it out of the corner of my mouth, the sound of an engine came from the parking lot. Mercy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as I pulled up the glamor of a notepad and pen. We waited a few more seconds for Charlie to leave, and then I put the fake pen to the fake paper. “So,” I said in a business like tone as soon as Tad’s suspicious voice drifted into this room. “Can you tell me where all your wolves were last night?”

Mercy shook her head. “No, we don’t keep tabs on our wolves all the time.” I pretended to write as she spoke, my head bowed, eyes on the doorway. “Adam was with me, so was Joel and a few others, including Mary Jo. Ben was on pack business, and Zack is normally with Warren and Kyle.” She broke off as if suddenly noticing the two Cantrip agents that had entered the doorway. 

I turned towards them, smile fixed in place. “Hello,” I said smoothly and coldly, “May I help you?” They had suffered from what I tended to call the Blackcat affect. Their faces were pale and waxen, the whites of their eyes shone, their steps were wobbly, their movements jerky, as if they had run a long long distance but weren’t certain if they’d run far enough. They’d been terrified after just a few seconds of Blackcat’s proximity and now they tried desperately to prove their courage.

To show that the terror they had felt just being near Blackcat was a false alarm and not the real thing, no matter what their instincts screamed.

They had the air of what Blackcat would call “Poor,  _ poor,  _ prey. Trying so hard to prove themselves when all they should do is run.” I could practically hear her say it, rough voice dripping with malice and hunger.

One was taller, bulkier, but he had the eyes of the wary, the eyes that knew that some things in the dark were more dangerous than they appeared. Two was thinner, all whipcord muscle and skin, and had the air of someone who had a big chip on their shoulder. He was the type to scream in the face of something that would eat him, because he refused to acknowledge the fear in his stomach. It was him who spoke, anger and fear in his voice, so blended together they were hard to tell apart. “We are here to talk to Mercy Hampton about a murder perpetrated by one of her wolves. What are you doing?”

I slipped my false notebook and pen into one hand and gave them my badge. “I’m Logan Altendorf of the FBI, also questioning Mercy Hampton, and reasonably confident that a werewolf was not the murderer.” Cool and calm and in control, that was me. All thoughts of the woman’s eyes were locked away.   
One took the badge, eyes sharp. “This is not the regulation FBI badge, there are a few differences.”

I let my smile grow by a centimeter. “Of course there are, I am, after all, part of the specialized team chosen to deal with supernatural occurrences.” And if I was pretending to be FBI, I wouldn’t be walking around with a badge that had notable differences, but I didn’t say that aloud.

“You’re lying. Cantrip deals with supernatural threats, not the feds.” Two shot the words at me, as if he could poke through my story to reveal the truth beneath.

I let my smile grow by another few centimeters, let the slightest hint of white teeth poke through my lips. “I can’t lie, I’m fae. And the feds deal with supernatural threats now.” They looked at me, eye’s widening. “Logan Altendorf, registered as a Finder, check if you need to, but I do not lie.” It was true, and I had found it easier to register as full fae then explaining my half-fae half-witch blood.

Two’s eyes blazed with anger, but One, more wary after Blackcat’s warnings, frowned as he returned my badge. “You said you didn’t believe a werewolf had committed the crime, but you are here speaking to Mrs. Hampton because?”

“I like to be thorough. Mrs. Hampton, would you please fill these gentlemen in on what you have told me?” I made a gesture with my hand, short and dismissive, as if the Cantrip agents were of no importance.

Two’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”

Mercy broke in. “What do you want her to do? Touch cold iron?” Her voice was incredulous, but I had expected the challenge.

Two grinned violently, picked up a wrench, and held it out to me. “Yes.” One hissed in surprise, but didn’t argue.

With a raised eyebrow, I put up my imaginary notebook and pen, peeled off one of my gloves, and grabbed the wrench. I didn’t try to stop the very real pain that twisted my features, and I let go almost immediately, revealed my palm. The skin had turned a dark angry red, and blisters were already starting to pop up. “Satisfied,” I gritted out, because murmuring might give the game away.

Two put the tool back with the air of the superior, “Yes, I am.”

Mercy coughed, “Well then,” she started, “From what I have been told, the body was mauled but not eaten? Can’t be a werewolf, as a werewolf would have eaten the body. We would also be able to tell if one of our own had committed this murder. We would be able to smell the blood, but there has been none smelled, at least not yet. If you need me to, I can call the various members of my pack, and find out what they were doing last night. I could also call Adam, and you can see what he says.” She smiled, not vicious, but a shade wolfish, or perhaps I should say coyoteish.

One’s face paled, but Two firmed his jaw. “I don’t believe you,” he growled. He said that a lot, a defense probably, an inadequate one. He needed to start believing the very real truths that lurked right in front of his nose.

Mercy shrugged. “What reason would we have to kill this person? We have claimed the Tri-cities as ours to protect, killing people would be detrimental to the cause of keeping this place safe. Even so, my husband and I are always available if you need help with you case.” She smiled, a real welcoming one and not the sly smile of a troublemaker she had given earlier.

Two opened his mouth, but One grabbed his shoulder. “Thank you for your time,” One said shortly, then he turned his partner around and the two left the shop.

Mercy turned to me, worry on her face. “Is your hand okay?”

I revealed it, fine except for the red mark, no boiling blisters in sight. “I’m really good at glamor.” I pulled on my glove and grinned, ignoring the slight pain that came from the fabric being pulled over the burn. “Detrimental, huh? Busting out the big language.” I settled on amusement instead of annoyance, the burn wouldn’t last, but it hurt.

Mercy laughed, “Have to put that history degree to use somehow.”

I shook my head and snorted. “So, how did I do? I was trying for Blackcat, but diplomatic.”

Mercy made a face. “I don't think Blackcat can be diplomatic, but otherwise, you did good.”

“Thanks.” I shook my head again, smiling slightly. “And thanks for the food. I have to go before Blackcat and Jacob destroy the house.” I grinned fully at the thought, even as I hoped that it wouldn’t be so.

“No problem.” A pause, “Are they really that bad?”

“Worse.” And with that, I left. I did make sure to wave goodbye to Tad on the way out.

 

Blackcat

I’d maybe had three hours asleep when I was jolted awake by the crash of a body onto my bed and by my side. Any dreams I’d been having quickly disappeared under the assault of the small fingers that grabbed at my shoulder, shaking me, and the words that came fast and eager. “Blackcat! Wake up! Wake up!” I batted Jacob away with one hand and pulled the blankets over my head with the other, unfortunately, he did not get the message. “Blackcat,” he sang, “wakey wakey. Or I will have to use drastic measures.”

I mumbled something along the lines of “Fuck off,” and, “Go annoy someone else.”

He laughed and said. “Fine! I guess I now have to terminate with extreme prejudice!” I felt the bed shift as he moved back, heard his intake of breath as he got ready. I curled into a tighter ball, burrowing under the blankets and hoping it would be enough to withstand the assault I knew would come. Then his fingers found my sides, even with the blankets between us he started his attempts to tickle. 

My mouth twitched, but he could do nothing with my blanket nest in his way.

I felt him stop, heard him lean back, then something was yanking at the blankets, little fingers grabbed my foot and started to do their evil.

I shrieked, rolled, fell off the bed, and plastered myself against the wall in one smooth movement. Any hope I had of going back to sleep evaporated like mist in sunlight. “You,” I said, pointing at the menace who sat on my bed with an innocent smile plastered across his smug face, “are evil.”

“Yes,” he said solemnly, eyes dancing. “I am.” He stood, arms spread wide. “Bow down before your emperor! The Tyrant of Monsters! The Tamer of Beasts! The -” He was cut off by a pillow smacking his face. He fell back, his false shock written across his face, hand on his chest. “Betrayal!” He cried, “Betrayed by my own kin!”

I smiled, another pillow held in my hands, ready for battle. “You, Emperor of All Things Dark and Dangerous, have been challenged.” My smile widened, my teeth felt a little sharper than they had been before. “Be prepared to relinquish your throne.”

He stood back up and pointed at me. He lost the effect of pointing down at me, because even standing on the bed he was smaller than me, but he made up for it by lifting his chin and looking down his nose. In one hand he held the pillow I’d thrown at him. “Never,” he hissed, and war commenced.

Which was how Logan found us, thirty minutes later, coffee, food, and files in her hands. We paused mid rampage, my pillow raised in attack, Jacob’s pillow raised in defense. A few feathers floated to the floor in the sudden silence. 

She wrinkled her nose. “I have breakfast. Which you will only get after cleaning up. You also have to buy new pillows today.”

“Hey,” I proclaimed, “They aren’t that torn up!” Another feather drifted down from a rip in my weapon.

Jacob was sniffing and his eyes gleamed happily. “Okay!” he said brightly. He turned to me and under his breath he murmured, “Donuts.” He grinned, wide and happy.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust but got to work. After we’d finished, I trudged to the new kitchen table while Jacob skipped towards the promise of a sugary breakfast. Logan was already sitting down, files open before her, a half eaten donut in one hand. “The victim files?” I asked while looking at breakfast in horror. 

“Yes,” Logan took another swig of her coffee and I hissed in disgust. Nasty smelling stuff. Nasty tasting stuff, right up there with things that had no meat in them. “It’s for our case.” She picked up a bag by her seat and set it on the table. “For you.”

Jacob, his mouth already caked in powdered sugar, asked, “Can I see it? Pretty please.”

I tapped him on the head while leaning over and grabbing the bag. It smelled like some kind of pot pie, with a happy noise I ripped it open and pulled it out. It was a pot pie, and still warm too. Logan truly was amazing. “No, you can’t kitten. Does it give a name for our mystery meat?”

Logan sighed while Jacob made extreme sounds of disgust. “Unfortunately not.”

“Which means,” I grinned, and it was not the friendly one I’d given to Jacob, “He wasn’t registered.” Which told me what path I would take tomorrow when talking to the relative. I grabbed a fork and started to eat my delightful, meat filled, and warm breakfast.

“What will be going on today?” Jacob asked, eyes wide and flicking between me and Logan. 

Logan looked at Jacob and gave her brother a weary smile. “I’m helping Tony out today. On loan, you could call it. Blackcat is staying here with you.”

Jacob’s head swung towards me. “But couldn’t you just interrogate the relative today?”

I looked at Logan and she nodded. “I’ll be doing that tomorrow, because tomorrow you will have werewolf guards. Besides,” I smiled, “do you really want to have me talk to someone who smells of fear on only three hours of sleep?” I ate another bite to suppress my vicious grin.

_ We’d rip them up and eat their heart. And Maybe eat their soul as well, its been a while since we’ve eaten one of those. And half fae do taste the best, don’t you agree? _

He looked at me, grinned, wide and happy and unconcerned. “Nope, guess we’ll be having a Pokemon marathon!”

I groaned and rolled my head back while Logan laughed a tired, but amused laugh.

**We will, for him.**

The day whirled by in a flash of color, laughter, and exhaustion. We bought pillows first, durable ones that could survive a little rough housing, and nearly got kicked out of the store for causing a ruckus. We did not end up having a marathon of insufferable squeaky voices, instead, we watched The Hobbit Trilogy, the extended versions. We played a couple of games Magic in which I was thoroughly trashed, and I slept indiscriminately throughout the movies. Logan came back around The Battle of the Five Armies, the only movie that I didn’t sleep through, as it was the movie with the most battle scenes.

I went to bed early, and slept late, and this night my dreams were not disturbed half remembered memories. 

I was jolted awake by the sound of a car, a little ways away, but not one I knew. I groaned and got dressed in more professional clothes. Which meant a tank top that actually fit, and jeans, and sandals, and a braid that was not a mess. I grabbed a pair of shades, not the red ones, nor the pirate ones that Jacob had given me that I had never gotten around to wearing, but a pair of slick black ones, and shoved them onto my nose.

Jacob was already awake, and there was an empty bowl of cereal in the sink, so I was going to make the wild assumption that he had already eaten. The TV was blaring, the words were in Japanese. I’d never learned Japanese, I wasn’t sure if I could, I already had more than a dozen languages swirling around in my head. I grabbed a frozen steak and heated it up. “Whatcha watching?” I called as the microwave hummed.

“The Devil is a Part-Timer!” He called back.

I decided I didn’t want to know, and concentrated on devouring my steak as soon as the microwave beeped. The car was still about five minutes away.

I heard the TV shut off, and Jacob walked into the kitchen, a grin plastered on his face. “It was on the end credits anyway. Logan’s already left, and I was bored, so I tried it, it’s a cool show.” He waited for some kind of commentary, but I was too busy seeing if I could eat the steak in under five minutes. “You were asleep for like, ten hours,” he complained when it became obvious that I wasn’t going to answer.

I chomped down on the last piece just as the car pulled up. Jacob’s eyes lit up, and he turned around to open the door, but I grabbed his arm and held up a finger. I listened to the steps, heavy, soft, the steps of a densely muscled predator.

_ Werewolf. It’s been a while since we’ve had a werewolf to play with. _

**You’re being awfully talkative for someone who won’t exist in a few days.**

_ My day will come again, I’m patient. More patient than you. _

I gave Jacob a thumbs up sign, and watched as Jacob rushed to the door. Both of you be quiet, I don’t need you yammering in my mind when I’m dealing with this guy.

**Well that’s not nice, someone’s testy today.**

_ She knows we’ll be seeing easy prey. _

“Hi!” Jacob sang as he opened the door.

“Howdy.” A southern voice, amused.

A pause from Jacob. “You sound like Fjord! Have you seen Critical Role?”   


“Ehh, no?”

“Would you like to?”   


“I don’t see why not.”   


“I’ll pull the first episode up!” Jacob rushed by me as I made my way to the door.

The man at the entrance looked slightly bemused, and I pushed down the amusement that came with the sight. He did look like a cowboy, with his cowboy boots and hat, though I think he meant to invoke the image. When he saw me, he  held his hand out. “Warren Smith, ma’am.” He grinned, and in a lower voice added. “I’m second in pack rankings, and I’m good with children.”

I raised an eyebrow, but shook his hand anyway. There was only the faintest feeling of fear from him, he was good at covering it up. “Agent Samanatha Blackcat. Don’t let Jacob run you ragged.” I called to Jacob, “See ya kitten! Don’t blow up anything without me!”

His voice came back, eager and happy. “Bye Blackcat! Love you!”

With an eye roll, I stepped out of the doorway, and moved. Without Jacob, I could go at my full speed, the world rushing about me in a blur of color, my feet gliding over the ground. I could feel the warmth and the slow, steady pulse of the thing that sang to what I had used to be. People called it magic nowadays, I just liked to call it energy.

It felt like a few seconds, with the ground singing beneath me, and the creatures of a different world glaring at me with hatred and fear, but it was probably a minute, maybe two, till I skidded to a halt on the street corner.  I checked the address on my phone, looked up at the street sign, it was the correct place. 

I pulled back my shoulders, smoothed down my braid, and allowed my cat to come closer to my front. Her presence sat behind my eyes like a heavy weight, but I was used to it. With her close to the front, my movements were smoother, and I walked like I had a purpose, not like I was debating which person in a crowd to eat first.

We walked up to correct house, a simple thing, identical to all the other houses on the street.  **The house of someone trying very hard to be invisible.** We walked up to the stoop of the house, knocked on the door. Inside, the heartbeat quickened, footsteps, light, hesitant, and human, came our way. A face appeared at the window of the door, a woman's face, mid fifties. We tipped our head forward slightly, the glasses slipped down our nose, and she caught a glimpse of our eyes. She sucked in a breath, opened the door. “Come in please.” Her voice was choked.

**She knows.**

We stepped in, our footsteps utterly silent on the hardwood floor. Behind us, the woman closed the door. “Would you like something to drink?” She pushed past us, guided us to the living room.

“Water, please.” With my cat so close, our voice had turned smoother, the rasp into a purr.

The woman nodded and left the room. We turned to investigate the pictures on the walls. Most of them were of a boy, young and wide eyed. She was in some off them too, smiling and happy.  **He was her son.** My cat’s thought was almost sad, but we pushed it away to concentrate on something else. A diploma on the wall, bright and shining, the treasure of a woman who had devoted herself to keeping her son safe.

In the end, she failed.

The name on the diploma, written in bold cursive, was Michale Howe.

Footsteps, a heart beat that had steadied. Ms. Howe entered the room, bearing two cups, one filled with water, the other with what looked like lemonade.  **She’s prepared herself.** She looked at us, looked at what we were looking at, and choked on a sob. She placed the cups on the coffee table and stared at her hands. “I knew,” she whispered, “I don’t know how, but I knew.” She looked up, wide eyed, tears started to spill onto her cheeks. “Are you with the fae?”

We walked over, picked up the water, and swirled it around in the glass.  **She’s stronger than she looks.** My cat said, her voice tired. We’d seen so many grieving mothers, so many lost children, so many deaths, yet it hadn’t been until recently that we’d started to care. “Yes,” we said, “You should sit.”

She lifted her chin, “I will stand.”

“It's your choice. Why was your son never registered?” If he had been, it would have made it easier for the killer to find him.  **He must have some other way of hunting.**

Ms. Howe licked her lips. “His father did not want him registered.” Nothing else, we could have dug deeper, but who the father was didn’t matter.  **She’s relieved that we did not ask, look at the way she’s standing.**

“In the days before he disappeared, did anything strange happen. Anyone come over?” Going from person to person was a good way to sense who would be good prey.

She shook her head, “No, he didn’t come often.”  She paused, a thought crossed her mind. “A week before . . . before he disappeared, he came over to celebrate my birthday. There was a door to door salesman, Michale didn’t get a good feeling from him, and wouldn’t let him in. He was like that sometimes, could tell who would be good company or not.” She froze, holding back a sob.

This sounded promising. “This man, did you see him?”

“I only caught a glimpse,” she swallowed, looked up at us, “He was average, plain. Bland face and haircut.” 

“Did he have any jewelry?” We asked, and something started to twist uncomfortably in our stomach. In the back of our mind, the Other started to laugh.

 Ms. Howe’s brow furrowed. “Yes, I think so. A belt buckle of some kind. I only caught a glimpse, but it flashed gold.”

_ I bet he smelled of fire. _ Sang the Other, softer, insidiously.

Jacob.

Ms. Howe looked at me, her eyes fierce and shiny with tears. “He killed my Michale, didn’t he?”

We nodded, our mouth was dry of any moisture. “Yes, he did. And now we will kill him.”

“Good.” But we were already gone, the cup of water left on her table jostled slightly with our movement.

Everything was a blur, panic and fear and anger swirling in our gut and tightening our stomach.  _ Look at that. You left your precious little Jacob all alone with a werewolf for company. We all know how fragile werewolves are, with the right ingredients. How much do you want to bet that Warren Smith’s wolf is red?  _ We yowled in anger and fear, our foot hit a rock, we fell and rolled out of control. At the speed we’d been going, we were surprised that something didn’t break.

A voice, in front of us, incredulous. “My lord?” Questioning, delightful, a voice full of brimstone and smoke.

Fuck.

_ “Oh, how delightful.”  _ Said the other with our mouth,  _ “I thought someone like you was around here somewhere. Figured with that body, all sacrificial and everything.”   _ We felt our arms jerk, we felt our body stand up.

Fuck. Shit. Damn. We didn’t have time for this. Jacob needed us

The man in front of us was human, with glowing red eyes and a pulsing black rock on a leather thong. Ah yes, old mistakes. How fucking delightful. “My lord?” He asked again. Then he grinned, so wide he split the skin on either side of his face. “Let me bring us to a better place to talk.” The world swirled to a place of mist and smoke. Not the spirit world, but one removed from time.

_ Have fun with this puzzle. Better solve it quickly before time runs out for your little angel.  _ The Other’s presence dissipated towards the back of our mind. The next breath we took was our own.   **It’s not surprising one of them is here,** murmured my cat,  **they always come when they’re least wanted.**

The man cocked his head, his eyes amused. “My lord, are you not happy to see me? And what is up with your host? She looks almost exactly like your first one.”

We smiled, and our lip caught on our jagged teeth, the coppery taste of blood filled our mouth. “Ohhh,” we purred, “We’re just delighted.” We lunged, and even though he wasn’t expecting it, he jerked back. Our claws caught on the flesh just beneath his shirt, but it was only a scratch. Fast little bugger.

“So that’s how it is. Figures.” He sighed, and attacked.

We didn’t waste time on flashy attacks. We moved out of the way, ready to counter attack, but he was just as fast as us, and he gave us no time to attack back. We wanted to scream, we had no time to heal from mortal wounds. We dodged again, and this time we twisted into his guard and snapped our claws across his throat. He was too fast, his head jerked back, but our claws caught his face, his eye gave a satisfying pop as one of my claws sunk in. He howled, a high keening cry that hurt our ears. Our eardrums busted, and because of the pain we couldn’t move fast enough to twist out of the way of the dagger that slid between our ribs. He smiled, blood running down his face. “I thought you would be a better fighter, my lord.” He twisted his dagger, the blade grated against a rib.

“Fuck, now we have to heel from that.” We smiled, wide and sharp and vicious, and lunged forward, teeth ripping at his neck. He tried to move away, but our claws were in his shoulders now, and he couldn’t move. The warm, slick flesh of his throat slid down our own throat. His body went slack. I gripped the necklace around his neck and pulled it off, tossed it as far as possible and stepped away from him. His body and the talisman would be lost in time, and we would deal with them later.

_ I thought that would take longer. _

**You don’t get to speak.**

We ripped the dagger out of my side, and it was halfway healed by the time the mists dissipated. By the time they were gone, all that was left was a vivid red scar. The sky was dark ahead, it was night. Jacob. I needed to see Jacob.

We were at the house in a matter of seconds, in it in less then. The lights were still on, there were shards of glass and water on the floor. The disk for Monty Python was by the TV stand. The house was empty, no heartbeat, no breath. No smell. No doubt if we were a werewolf or something like Mercy, we might have been able to break through the glamour, but we weren’t, and we could not track him.

Jacob was gone.

And in the back of our mind, the Other laughed.


	8. Chapter 7

Ben

A Few Hours Ago

I was halfway home when the call came, my phone vibrating obnoxiously in the cup holder beside my seat. I pulled off the side of the road, because being arrested would fucking suck, and checked the screen. Warren. Good thing I had pulled over then, this would probably be pack business. “Whatcha need?” There were sounds in the background, popcorn popping, a microwave running, and someone pacing.

“Where are you?” He sounded tired and his southern drawl was more pronounced.

“Why the fuck do you want to know?” I asked, a horrible suspicion dawning on me. No. I’d had enough crazy shit to deal with these past few days. He would have called someone else, surely.

The microwave shut off, a bag of popcorn was ripped open, and there were steps coming in Warren’s direction. A young boy’s voice said, “Can you put the phone on speaker please?”

Warren’s voice was amused. “He can hear you.”

“But I can’t hear him.” The voice was plaintive.

“Okay,” the line started up with the grainy sound that happened with having the phone on speaker.

“Chill,” that young boy’s voice said. “High Ben! I’m Jacob! We were wondering if you’ve heard anything from Mercy about the . . . bodyguard situation? Like why Blackcat isn’t home yet?”

“No. Should I?” My gut tightened.

Jacob laughed nervously. “Well no, not really. But normally it doesn't take all day to interrogate one person.”

“And,” Warren added, “there hasn’t been any news reports a massacre anywhere.” Even without a report I wouldn’t rule it out. Agent Blackcat was one crazy bitch, and I was almost positive that if she slaughtered a town, she could cover it up.

“And Warren’s attempting to bail on me.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“I am not. Kyle was expecting me home hours ago.”

“You are so are bailing on me.”

“Wait a fucking minute.” I said. “What the hell is going on?”

“That's two dollars for the swear jar.” Jacob’s voice was as innocent as a birds, and just as cheerful.

Warren sighed loudly. “Blackcat’s not back yet, and I needed to be home yesterday. So we are switching and you get babysitting duty.”

“Why didn’t you call Honey?” 

“She’s busy.” Damn fuck it, of course she was.

“I don’t don’t know where you are.” 

“I can give you the address.”

“Blackcat’s fucking terrifying.”

“She is not!” Jacob sounded indignant. “She’s not scary if you’re not scared of her. You’re excuses are lacking. However, if you can come up with something truly creative, I might be able to persuade Warren to contact someone else. And that’s three dollars for the swear jar.”

“Not only am I a bad influence for children, I also have a stripper at home and was about to have some really hot sex when I arrived.”

There was a heavy pause. “Okay,” Jacob said, in a scandalized voice. “I will admit that I don’t hear that every day. However, no dice.”

Warren snorted while I groaned. “I can tell that I’m going to enjoy your company.” I said, as scathing and sarcastic as physically possible.

“Of course you are. I’m an angel.” He sounded decidedly smug, like a cat who’d gotten the cream.

My eye twitched as Warren clicked off the speaker and rattled off the address.. “You managed to withstand him the whole fucking day?” I hissed in a voice filled with both horror and awe.   
“He’s actually not that bad,” Warren said, he was grinning, I could tell. “As long as you don’t badmouth his best friend. Who happens to be Agent Blackcat.”

I swore and hung up. I was still swearing as I pulled back onto the road and into the direction of Agent Blackcat’s temporary home. It actually wasn’t overly far from where I’d been, which wasn’t going to be something I ruminated on often. I parked in the driveway and walked up to the door, Warren opened it before I could knock. “I can’t stay.” He said, he looked like he’d been run over by a car. “Don’t destroy the house, and don’t kill him.” He pushed past me and out.

“Bye!” Jacob called from the depths within the house.

“Goodbye!” Warren called back, then his car started and he pulled out. I stepped into the house and closed the door behind me.

A boy, apparently Jacob, wearing an oversized tee-shirt with ripped sleeves that was dirty-grey in color regarded me in the hallway. “You don’t look like a Critical Role person,” he said, a touch sadly.

“I hope to God that I fucking don’t.”

“That’s four dollars for the swear jar. How about Monty Python?”

“You have Monty Python?” Suddenly, I started to think that he couldn’t be overly bad.

He nodded. “Yep. I’d make popcorn, but Warren ate the last of it. Want a drink?”

I refrained from pinching the bridge of my nose. Of course Warren would have eaten the last of the popcorn. “Yes, water.” I would have liked something stronger but I doubted they had anything like that hanging around “Where are the disks?”

He pointed to the vague direction of the living room, then scuttled off towards what I guessed to be the kitchen. With a groan, I moved to where his finger had pointed. There was a tv, with a tv stand, and a whole bunch of folders. I got to the work of sorting through them. It wasn’t an overly bad collection, Megamind was in there, and I was just pulling out the Monty Python disk when there was a sound of breaking glass. 

I ran towards the kitchen, Jacob was standing there in the middle of the room, a few steps from the counter. He was frozen, his eyes wide and gazing in the direction of the floor. He didn’t move a muscle when I came in. On the floor, glass and water reflected the kitchen lights. I took in a deep breath. The boy’s scent had changed, he had been smelling of fae and witch magic before, but now he smelled of something syrupy and bittersweet. Burnt sugar, lemons and oranges, and something else. Something darker. “Hey,” I said, moving slowly, arms held up in a placating manner, “You okay?”

“Red wolf.” He murmured, soft and shaky. His voice had changed as well, syrupy and layered. He started to sway, just slightly. “Red wolf,” he repeated, just a touch louder.

“Yeah,” I said. “My wolf is red.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

His head snapped to my direction, his finger to his lips. “Shhhhh.” His eyes were wide and blank and white and glowing.

Shit. Hadn’t Logan said her source was never wrong? Of course her brother was a fucking prophet. Who else could of been her source? I hunkered down and held out a hand. “Why do we need to be quiet?” I whispered.

He took my hand and gripped it with his smaller one. “He comes. He comes hunting. He comes hunting.”

“For who?”

“For me.” He shivered, but he didn’t smell of fear.

“No worries, no motherfucker will get past me.” I put as much bravado into my whispered words as possible.

He jerked forward and grabbed onto me with both hands, fingers digging into my shoulders like claws. The light in his eyes was fading. “Red wolf, if we stay and fight we die. We die and Blackcat finds us and then she breaks and then she won’t care who she kills or how long it takes for them to die. We have to run. Blood on the floor. We have to run. Run run runrunrunrunrunrurnrurn-”

I shook him out of it. He blinked at me, his eyes back to their normal color. “Wha-?” His voice cracked slightly.

I pressed a finger to his lips and listened. A car was coming. “Did Agent Blackcat take a vehicle when she left?” Jacob shook his head, and now I smelled the fear on him. “Okay, I”m going to have to carry you, are you okay with that?” He nodded and I picked him up. “Is there a back door?” He pointed silently and I followed his directions into the open air. The sun was setting, the sky looked like blood.

“He’ll catch us,” whispered Jacob, voice hoarse. I didn’t ask if he was sure.

“Is there any way to escape?”

“No, we can only delay and hope Blackcat reaches us in time.”

“Okay.”

I ran.

 

Mercy

Now

The downstairs door flew open with a bang, it crashed against the wall, and the sound echoed through the house. Adam and I looked at each other, he stood up and moved out of the room, silently, softly. I looked at Jessie and Aiden. “Stay here.”

“Do you need me?” Aiden looked at me solemnly.

“I’ll let you know.” I stood up.

Jessie bumped Aiden with her shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Here we’ll start a new game. I was about to kick everyone’s but any way.”

Aiden looked at the cards on the ground, his brow furrowing. “But you’re the farthest from level ten.You’re still stuck at level one.”

“All part of my master plan.”   
I smiled and moved out of the room, from downstairs, I heard Adam’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

“We need Mercy.” I recognized that voice, hoarse as sandpaper and twice as rough.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“We need Mercy.” Agent Blackcat growled, low and long and entirely inhuman.

“I'm coming, I’m coming.” I said as I walked into the kitchen. Agent Blackcat was by the counter, butcher knife in hand. She wasn’t looking at us, instead she was inspecting the blade, the metal glinting in her hand. Her mouth and throat glistened black with blood, there was a ragged hole in her shirt and a red scar across her side. She was tense, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Adam was on the other side of the table standing with a predator's patience, ready for a fight or for her to run.

“Mercy,” she said, her voice was odd, as if talking through a mouthful of glass. “We need your permission to Hunt.”

“It looks like you’ve already been hunting.” Adam’s voice was smooth, he motioned at me to get back.

She hissed, or maybe it was a growl, a sound caught somewhere between the two. “Wrong type of hunt. Give us permission.” 

“Why?” I asked, and made my way to Adam’s side. He gave me an exasperated look.

She made a frustrated sound low in her throat, it sounded like a smothered scream. “JACOB’S GONE!” She yowled the words, half garbled, I caught a glimpse of her teeth, flashing white. They were bloodstained and sharp and did not look like they belonged in a human’s mouth. “JACOB’S GONE AND SO IS THE WOLF WHO WAS WITH HIM!”

“Warren?” Adam asked.

The knife was buried half deep in the table, she moved, pacing back and forth. “Red wolf, it would of been a red wolf,” her voice went high and shrill again, “WE NEED PERMISSION TO HUNT!”

Warren’s wolf isn't red. “Ben,” I breathed. I fished around in my pocket and pulled out my phone, two missed calls and a voicemail from Warren. Adam’s phone probably told the same tale. We hadn’t been paying attention to them, the game we’d been playing needed all of our concentration.

Adam narrowed his eyes. “I can’t feel his pack bond.”

“YOU’RE WASTING TIME!” She shrieked the words. “WE NEED MERCY’S PERMISSION TO HUNT! SHE CLAIMED THIS LAND, IT MUST BE HER!” She faced us, fingers spasuming, but she didn’t look us in the face. She quieted, panting, shaking. I realized she was scared, but was she scared for Jacob, or was she scared of what she might do if he died?

“Okay, yeah, you can hunt.” I said it quickly. “What do you need?”

She sagged, and it looked as if only her hands braced against the counter prevented her from collapsing. “Cream. Brownie making supplies,” she rasped. I didn’t see how that would help her hunt, but I grabbed the brownie supplies as Adam grabbed the cream. I didn’t see her grab a bowl, but suddenly there was one on the table, and the knife was back in her hand. “Mix the supplies and get the oven ready. But don’t put them in yet.” She grabbed the cream from Adam and poured it into the bowl. I turned the oven on and started to mix.

I heard Adam’s intake of breath and turned to see the knife back on the table, glittering with blood. Her wrists were cut, and she held them both above the bowl, blood streamed down into cream. Then she was beside me and bleeding into the brownie mix. “Our blood calls them, and we need a bribe.” She whispered the words and shook her wrists, the stream of blood stopped, droplets scattered over the counter and onto the floor. I caught a glimpse of her wrists as she moved back to the table. There was no sign that she had cut herself except for new, inflamed scar tissue. She was completely healed. I shivered, no one healed that fast. Yet she had. How?

“Put the mix into the oven.”

“It’s not ready yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. Time is of the essence.”

With a growl, Adam took the bloody batter from me and shoved it in the oven. I set the timer as Adam said, “Mind explaining what's going on.”

Agent Blackcat was stirring the cream and blood with a finger. “We will after we finish this part of the hunt. We will have some time then.” She started to chant, an old sounding chant. I grabbed Adam’s hand, I needed the comfort, there was something in me that wanted to answer to that chant and I didn’t like the feeling. 

I wasn’t sure how I noticed the change, but suddenly I was sure that we weren’t alone. Agent Backcat tilted her head, as if listening to something, then spoke again in that old language of hers. It was like that for maybe a minute till she broke off in English, voice half strangled. “If not for us you stubborn idiot, then for Jacob. We both know he doesn't deserve what will happen!”

There was a frozen pause, then she sagged in relief, onto the table. The bowl spun, then clattered to a stop. It was empty. Adam’s voice was quiet. “Explain.”

She gave a half broken laugh. “We summoned a spirit and sent him out to find a spirit that knows where Jacob and your wolf is. It is an old trick. And you’ll only see it once more.”

I remembered Charles telling me about spirits. “I thought that speaking to spirits but you in their dept, and then you would get caught up doing things for them.”

She shook her head. “It didn’t use to be like that. But now we have to bargain.” She pointed towards the oven. “Give and take. They are faded things, shards of what they used to be. Our blood gives them a little bit of that old power back. Power for information.” She pressed her face into her hands, her hair bracketing in fingers. For the first time, I realized that it was torn halfway out of her braid, for her, it seemed more natural that way. The hair of some wild thing, not the braid of someone who could live in the modern world without breaking.  “Now all we can do is wait.”

“So,” I said, “You can tell us how you knew I was Coyote’s child.”

“It’s the same trick that you used to find the fragment of the ghost. It's like but unlike what you do to pierce through a fae’s glamor. We can look beyond this world and to one that shows the world as it is. You might get the hang of it if you try.” She sighed, a raspy crackling sound, and fell silent.

We waited until the brownies were done and set them on the table, they didn’t look like brownies, lumpy and mushy in places, half cooked in others, and with a red cast to them. I wouldn’t have wanted to eat them, and I didn’t see how some spirit would want to eat them either.

Blackcat still didn't move, and only the rise and fall of her shoulders showed that she still breathed.

I decided to practice the trick she spoke of. I leaned against Adam and sniffed the air. Whatever she’d been using to mask her sent had dropped, and I caught her true sent. Death, blood, and age-old terror. Something musky, with just the faintest whiff of sulfur. And something else, something elusive.

Something like the absence I’d smelled at the crime scene, but unlike the absence. More like a presence. 

“Does Logan know what happened?” Adam shifted his weight slightly, breaking my concentration.

“We called before coming here. She’s on her way.” She jerked slightly, then said something in that old language of hers.

I took a deep breath, and caught the wiff of presence again. I closed my eyes and focused on it, breathing deeply. When I opened my eyes, the world had changed. It was still basically the same, but something was laid over-top of it, or maybe under it. It turned the contours of the room soft and fuzzy. On the table, by the brownies, something crouched, dark and shadowy. It looked like a twisted form of a skeletal dragon, made of smoke and shadow. It whispered in Blackcat’s old language, then flowed out and away. Blackcat moved, and I nearly bit my tongue, because there wasn’t one Blackcat but three. One stood where she’d been last, the form smoky and shifting, spikes along the arms to an inhuman face to a tail along the spine to being balanced on legs that belonged to an animal. Her golden eyes were fixed on the table. A second Blackcat was human, or looked human, and paced behind the first, wringing her hands. Her eyes were black in her shadowy face, and there was something more defined about her compared to the first. The third and final Blackcat was crouched on the ground, ready to pounce, red eyes fixed on me. She saw my gaze, and waved, a slightly mocking move. She looked human, but the way her joints bent were not. 

Now I knew why she kept on saying we instead of I.

I stepped closer to Adam and away from the hungry gaze of the third Blackcat. He was still there, solid and warm under my fingers, and when I looked at him, I not only saw him, but his wolf, and little golden threads that went from him and out of the kitchen. One thicker one trailed towards me. I looked down, and at my feet, my coyote sat, ears flicking as she watched the three Blackcats.

Words passed by my ears, I could almost make them out. I looked back up and saw that there was another shadowy figure on the table, this time the form looking like some kind of stick figure, and in a different color then the dragon, a warmer, earthier color. It gestured wildly and spoke with a hate filled voice.

The third Blackcat shifted like she was about to spring, but the second Blackcat stopped pacing and grabbed her neck first. Suddenly I could see chains between the three Blackcats. Between the second and the first they were strong, but between the second and third they were corroded and rusty, but it also looked like some one had gone through a lot of trouble to fix those chains, and smaller, slimmer ones traced a path between the third and the first. 

I blinked rapidly and the whole world snapped back into focus. There was only one Blackcat, no stick figure, no wolf, and no coyote. Blackcat’s hands were moving, and she was speaking, no, begging, softly. There was a hesitation, then a nod. The brownie tin rattled, the food was gone, and Blackcat spoke in English once again. “We’ve got them.” Finally she looked up, and her eyes met mine. I don’t remember scrambling back and away from her gaze, but suddenly I was on the counter and she was gone.

 

Ben

I woke to a hand snapping across my face, there was a sharp crack at the contact, my head whipped to the side, and my eyes flew open. “Motherfu-”

“Shut up, I didn't give you permission to speak.” The voice was soft and gentle, but there was something malevolent in it. I turned my head to look at him. He was an average man, average height, average haircut, average features, but he wore a gaudy gold belt buckle and smelled of fire and fae. I looked away from him, I caught a glimpse of Jacob tied in a chair with blood trickling down his face before the man grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. I started to struggle. “Don’t,” he said, eyes dancing, “The chains are silver, and though you don’t feel the pain now, you will. I hadn’t planned to catch a werewolf so early into hunting, but I was prepared for future endeavors. So what should I do with you?”   
I glared at him. “Where in the motherfucking world am I?”

He slapped me again, and this time something gave way, it felt like my cheekbone. I swore violently as answering pain flared up in my arms, legs, and rib cage. “I wouldn’t talk if I were you,” the man said, “that cheekbone will take a while to heal.” He walked away from me, and towards a table that was close by. Instruments glitter on that table in the low light. It looked like we were in a barn or some abandoned building, and the light came from a flame that danced on the floor. He picked up a long thin blade and inspected it. “I won’t do anything with you yet,” he decided, “I know the kid’s name, not yours. I’ll deal with the kid and then I’ll deal with you. No doubt I can pull something out of you given time.” His head shot up. “What was that?”   
I hadn’t heard anything.

He looked at me. “Don’t go anywhere.” Then he turned and walked towards the door in the far wall, opened it, and left. 

Like I could go anyfuckingwhere. I hoped he tripped and broke his neck.

“Paranoid little bugger, ain’t he.” Whispered a voice, soft and rough, by my ear. I jerked, pain flared up in my arms and legs, a hand covered in blood wrapped around my mouth. “Sshhhhhh. We’re not here. Not as far as he’s concerned. How did he capture you?” A finger prodded my side, and I yelped, but the sound was stifled by the hand. “Ahh, burning fist into the side. Always a classic. Now, listen to me wolf, we don’t have long. We’re going to free you and Jacob, and you two are going to hide behind that table of lovely torture instruments. When we give you the signal, run and don’t look back.” 

There was a shake of chain, an answering burst of pain from my arms, a soft crack, and then the metal tying my arms to the chair slid off. The hand removed itself from my mouth, and the person slid over in front of me to investigate the chains around my feet. There was another soft crack, and those chains slid off two. Agent Blackcat stepped back as I stood up, rubbing her wrists. Her hands didn’t look right, they looked like they’d been shattered.

“I’ll get Jacob.” I whispered, words garbled because of the pain. 

She shook her head. “No, save your strength for running. We will get our Jacob,” she laughed slightly, though there was no humor in it, “Yes, he is yours as well, because if he were not, you would have done everything in your power to stop us.”

I took a couple steps away from the crazy bitch as she moved to Jacob’s side. She growled slightly when she saw his wound, then cut away the ropes with her claws. Some time when she was speaking to herself, her hands had healed, and her fingernails had lengthened and sharpened. She picked him up in her arm and deposited him in mine. She poked my cheek, quicker then I could follow. Pain flare there. “You’re healing faster than I expected.”

“Pack bonds.” I whispered, she was right, it didn’t hurt as bad as before. “Though the fucking silver should have slowed the process down.”

“Must be making up for being disrupted. Now hide.” I hid, I wanted no part of what she was planning, and my legs and arms were covered with blisters and burns. Add that to the hole in my side, and I would be useless in a fight. 

My ears popped, and I winced, what the fuck? Blackcat walked towards the middle of the room and the fire that danced there, suddenly, I could hear her steps,  though they were much quieter than a humans would be. She stood there, drenched in blood with torn clothes and knotted hair, threw back her head, and laughed. Unlike her previous humorless laugh, this one was smooth and silky and full of scorn. Her voice had changed to, but it was not the creature that had spoken in my car. There was no trace of growl or purr, her voice was soft as a knife wrapped in silk. 

“When I heard there was someone here stealing souls, I got excited for a second.” Her voice was deeper as well, and it sounded like it should be lacking emotion, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was too full of emotion. Her scent washed over me, blood, terror, and death. Sulfur and brimstone. I nearly choked, and my wolf growled in my mind. Demon. 

She was standing there like it was an average day, fingers clasped before her, a half smile on her face. How long had she been possessed? How’d she manage to hide it? I didn’t care, I didn’t want to know, all I wanted to do was run, run as fast and as far and possible. 

“But now,” the demon said, “I’m just disappointed. I was hoping for a fellow artist, but now I know that you are nothing but an amateur doing surgery with a hammer.” She sighed, “I guess I’ll have to take your playthings now and make proper use of them.”

The door banged open wide, and the man strode into the room, eyes blazing. “Who are you and how did you get here!” His eyes flitted over the room, but by some fucking miracal that he didn’t see us. In my arms, Jacob stirred, his eyes fluttering open. I placed my finger over my mouth, a silent command to be quiet.

The demon waved at the man. “Why, I’m you, given a few hundred years and a sense of discretion.” She tilted her head, a coy smile playing across her lips. “Or perhaps not, I do like to cause a bit of mayhem. Dead bodies do create a bit of a stir, don’t they?”

“Where are they?” He was looking around wildly.

“The wolf and the prophet?” She laughed again. “I spirited them away to a place I can play with them without interruption.”

“You didn’t have time for that,” he sneered, but his face was ashen.

She sighed. “You’re right, I didn’t.” She smiled again, a friendly one that invited him to share the joke. “I killed them and ate them. Soul, bones and all.”

“You lie.”

She spread her arms. “Do I? They certainly aren’t in your quaint little abode.”

He moved, so fast I  barely caught it, and Blackcat went flying across the room and smashed into the wall.Some of the wood splinted and broke, stabbing into her flesh, and her chest cavity was a pulpy mess. It should have killed her, instead, she pried herself off the boards and smiled as her ribs cracked back into place. For the first time I caught a glimpse of her eyes. The pupil was no longer round, instead it was jagged and running, around it was a thin ring of bright red that branched into her golden iris, around the gold was a solid ring of black that faded into the sclera to turn the white into a dirty grey. “This,” she spat around jagged teeth, and this time her voice sounded like three voices layered on top of each other, “might just be worth my time.” Her eyes met mine.

“Run.”

 

Blackcat

Ben was moving almost before the words were out of our mouth. The man in front of us turned, but we were faster, we grabbed his arm and smiled. “We’re not done dancing yet.” The other spoke through us, but we didn’t feel like reigning him back. This man had hurt Jacob, and for each drop of blood he spilled, we would rip into him till he was nothing.

He snarled and turned in our grip, his fingers striking at our face, burning white hot and trailing smoke. This time, we didn’t let him hit us, we moved just an inch to the side and his hand whistled by our face. We grabbed his wrist and yanked, and from one moment to the next we stepped out of the real world and into the spirit world. Here his human form was shed, and he looked every inch the classical christan demon. We yanked again and were back in the real world, his form wavered, but stayed, and around his hooves the floor started to burn. We let go, moving faster than he could grab, danced back and snatched.

Ben was gone, Jacob with him. Good, we didn’t want Jacob to see what we would do to this man. “Got your gold,” sang the Other, “Got your gold you sloppy bastard.” We held are hand up and waved the belt buckle. Under our fingers, we could feel the screaming of ghosts. “You tried so hard for such shoddy work. Let us show you true art.” There was no motion, no need to move, it was just a push of will, old as time, a push that ripped the world to show the next. We dropped the belt buckle in it and it passed through to land on the floor steaming, empty. That world would not except physical things for long, only spirits and ghosts.

The man screeched with rage and ran at us, we danced out of the way and clawed his back. His blood spattered across the ground and lit fires where it landed. We licked his blood off our claws. Surprisingly, it was only half-fae. Another half-fae, half witch? Possible. “What’s your name? Seems polite to ask before we kill you.”

He laughed. “You’ll never know.”

“Wouldn’t bet.” We lunged at him, claws out, he wasn’t fast enough. We caught him across the chest, not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to hurt. We wanted him to hurt. We wanted him to beg us to kill him. We heard laughter, our own, hungry and joyous. This was what we lived for.

We punched him, we weren’t strong, but we were fast and sometimes that’s all we needed. We caught him in the chest, and though it didn’t do the damage his punch had done, he did go flying back. He slammed against the wall, he didn’t go through, but something cracked. Hopefully his spine.

The fires started by his blood were spreading, we'd have to make it quick. Shame.

With a yowl of frustration we moved, hand plunging into the half-fae’s chest. His blood burned our hands as our fingers grabbed what we wanted most. His fists hit our sides in a wild struggle to knock us back as we ripped out his heart and bit deep. It burned our tongue, but it was the symbol that counted. His eyes were just glazing over as his body ground to a stop. His last vision would be his heart in our hands and his blood on our face.

We ate that heart in a building that burned with no regrets, and only the slightest hint of glee that no one was there to see our true self.  


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holey smokes, its done. For now at least.

Jacob

It was the wind in my hair and whoosh of Ben’s breath that allowed me to pull my heart back to order. I didn’t like being unconscious, with the half mad visions clouding my mind. “Blackcat,” I groaned, “we can’t leave her.” There was still time, still time to go back.

“She can take care of herself.” Ben panted. He was a werewolf, he should be strong enough to carry me, but he was panting. He must be injured, and he couldn’t heal as fast as Blackcat could. 

Blackcat who was in so much danger. Or was she? It was hard to tell with all I’d seen and with what I hadn’t.

There was a sound of a car, engine roaring, Ben skidded to a halt. “Adam! Mercy!” I turned my head to look, a woman was stepping out of the passenger side, she was amber eyed and Native American. 

A moment later another car came screeching up, sirens wailing. I started to struggle. “Logan!” Ben set me down and I staggered, only to be swept up in anothers arms.

“Jacob!” I hugged her back as she started to pat me down, and she actually growled when she touched the blood on my face. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, beside us, Ben was gesturing frantically, speaking in voices to the people I assumed to be Adam and Mercy. “Yeah, I’m good.”

She started to look around, “Where’s Blackcat.”

“Dealing with the fucking problem,” Ben snarled. “You know you could of fucking told us that she was possessed!”

“She’s not possessed!” I snapped back. Because she wasn’t not really, she just wasn't not possessed either.

“Yes she is!” He cried, his eyes were wild. “I would know that scent anywhere!”

Adam set a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and murmured to him. He looked at Logan, eyes yellow. “Tell us, now.”

Mercy crossed her arms. “I’m pretty curious too.”

Logan sighed. “She’s not possessed, most of the time she has control. Yes, there’s a demon in her, but it's not really a demon anymore, it's spent too long in this world.” Which was about as close as she could get to Blackcat's complicated history.

“She’s right,” said a young voice. Everyone but me jumped, I’d known she was coming, I’d seen it when I was unconscious. A young girl was approaching, in a dress, playing with a yo-yo. She smiled, but there was nothing human in her gaze. “She’s coming.”

It was an understatement, she was here. I knew by the sudden rush of air and the arms that dropped around my shoulders. She was covered in blood and peppered with burns. The ones on one hand where more serious, I could see bone poking out of the twisted and blackened flesh. She murmured something in her old tongue, she was shaking. I twisted around to hug her. I could feel her head turn to glare at the girl. “He was one of yours.” It wasn’t her voice. I squeezed her once more and stepped away, and Logan’s hand fell to grip my shoulder.

“No,” the girl said, “he wasn’t. Perhaps he would have been if we’d known he existed. But in the end he would of been yours to deal with either way.”

Blackcat growled, and I took it as a good sign, the demon didn’t like to growl. 

“You made a promise, fix it.”

Blackcat moved and the girl went sailing. She followed her, claws poised at her throat. “The only reason you are not dead is because I am in a good mood.” She stood up and walked back towards us. I noticed that her lips and face were covered in blisters. “You won’t have to worry about cleaning up. The place went down in flames.”

Yo-yo girl rubbed her throat and stood up. “One day,” she said, “You’ll have to choose a side.” She winked at me, and I grinned slightly back at her. I’d seen that too. The girl disappeared, as if she had never existed.

Blackcat sneered, and her teeth were a shattered, bloody mess. “Let’s go home.”

 

Mercy

We watched Logan, Jacob, and finally Blackcat enter Logan’s car and drive off. “Well that was impressive.” I said, then turned to Ben. He was white faced, his eyes were rimmed with red. “Come on Ben,” I murmured, “let's go.You’re staying with us tonight.” He nodded numbly, staring at nothing. Adam and I exchanged a glance, and I could tell that we were in agreement. We would make sure Ben was okay, and then we would visit Logan and Blackcat, and then we would finally figure out what was going on.

I pushed Ben into the backseat and sat with him while Adam gunned the car. “How did we not fucking know?” Ben whispered, “How did we not know?”

I thought of the shadowy Blackcat with the red eye and all the chains, but it was Adam who answered. “Because she’s very good at hiding it.”

“I want to know why Yo-yo girl appeared,” I said. “Especially since none of us contacted the fae.”

“Maybe Logan did.” Adam suggested, but I could tell in his voice that he doubted it. Yo-yo girl had come for a very specific reason, and I was pretty sure that reason, for once, had nothing to do with us.

“At least it’s over now.” I said.

“No its not,” Ben said, his voice slightly steadier, “there’s still the son of a bitch who taught him.”

I saw Blackcat’s face, covered in blisters and eyes burning. She’d told Yo-yo girl that she was in a good mood, she’d been lying, even if there had been no tells. “I don’t think that person will be much of a problem any longer.”

Ben started to shake again. “Don’t go after her Mercy, don’t. She’ll fucking kill you. It’ll fucking kill you.” He knew me, he knew what I was going to do. So did Adam, and I could see the anger and worry in his yellow eyes when he met mine in the rear-view mirror. I didn’t like it either, but it had to be done.

“I’m not going to talk to her alone, Adam will be with me. And somehow I doubt that she’ll do anything with Jacob there.”

“We’ll be careful Ben,” Adam said, “besides, I might just thank her. This is the first time in a long time that Mercy hasn’t had to go up against something that will most likely kill her.”

“Hey,” I complained, “I think I’m very good at staying, thank you very much.”

“Broken neck,” Adam said with a growl.

“Volcano god in your shop.” Ben added.

“Golem of Prague.”

“Wheelchair because of a giant river monster.”

I tuned them out as they continued to list my almost deaths. I didn’t point out that they were kinda just proving my point.

 

. . .

Much later, after Ben was situated in a guest room with Medea on his lap and Aiden and Jesse pulling him into playing pirates, Adam and I pulled up at the address of Logan’s and Blackcat’s temporary home. Logan opened the door for us, she looked like a wreck, and at the site of us her lips twisted. “I figured,” she said as she moved out of our way. The house was dark, In the living room there was the dialogue of some movie going on.

I tilted my head, “Is that The Hobbit?”

“Yep, the first one.” Logan led us through to the kitchen, and I caught a glimpse of Blackcat laying upside down on the couch. She had changed her tattered clothing for a fresh pair, and the blisters on her face was healed and the skin on her hand shiny and tight. Her eyes glowed a soft gold. Jacob leaned against her, fast asleep.

I took a seat at the table, and so did Logan, but Adam just leaned on the edge of it. “Blackcat will need to explain,” Logan said, “I don’t know how, and she, she knows probably know what is going on in her head.”

“Probably?” Adam asked. 

“According to her, things that were never meant to live forever either lose their memories or go crazy, or a messy combination of both.”

“I’ve never heard of that.” I said. Though it would explain why some of the oldest wolves acted the way they did. Bran and Sam being an exception.

“It’s true,” said a quiet voice with just a hint of purr. Blackcat leaned against the kitchen door frame, eyes still glowing gold. They had the faintest ring of black around them. She looked at Logan, “Jacob’s in bed, and hopefully he’ll stay there for the night.” She looked back at Adam and me. “What do you want to know?”

“We want to know about the demon.” Adam said, bland and cold, but I could hear the undercurrent of growl in it. I took a deep breath and tried to do the trick I’d managed earlier, but I couldn’t. Blackcat only smelled of human now, nothing else.

“I’m possessed.” Blackcat said. “But it cannot take me over except on certain days, if I am in the presence of something that will react badly to it when that happens, then I try to remove myself from that situation as quickly as possible.” She smirked slightly, “At least that's what I’ve been doing for the past three years. It can’t take me over completely because I am not alone. One of me is only slightly human, the other was never human to begin with. It can take over one, but not both.”

“How did it happen?” I asked because I wanted to see if she knew.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there for that. But my human says that it started with a death. The possession was an accident, she never meant to call a demon, only something that could protect, but she messed up the calling and she got the demon. I know how it ended though,” she smiled, “it ended with a bargain.”

“What bargain?”

Blackcat looked at me. “Her humanity to destroy her demon. But she was very young, and very scared, and made mistakes. So her demon did not get destroyed, just chained.”

I’d seen those chains.

“Is that it?” Adam asked.

“I believe it is,” she stretched, “I must go now, I have things to do.”

Then she was gone, with only the sound of the front door banging to show that she hadn’t teleported.

I looked at Logan. “She’s going to kill the witch, isn’t she?”

Logan sighed. “Yes, she is.”

 

Blackcat

Much later

I sat on my haunches, staring at my work. The blood on the floor was starting to cool, the scent of the witch's power was fading. I took a step away and wiped the blood from my mouth. She’d died grasping at the power her pain gave her. I’d made her suffer the death I couldn’t give to her student. 

No one had heard her scream. The witch herself had made certain of that, she’d warded the house so sounds of pain could not get through to the ears of her neighbors. 

I turned to leave, only to pause. Yo-yo girl had been right. This whole debacle had been my fault, if I’d dealt with this witch when I first found her, her student would not of learned her arts, would not have gone after Jacob.

I’d made a promise.

_ So what? You’ve broken your word before. _

Should I?

**It’s up to you.**

I took another step forward.

A spirit, eyes burning in anger, standing on the table with defiance written on its face. _ “If you want me to tell you where he is, you must promise me something. Fix your mistakes, do your job, or no deal. He will die, and you’ll be to blame.” _

A long time ago, when I was younger, a cave full of shadows, something moving in its depths.  _ “What will you do to get rid of it?” _

Me at that time, angry and scared and full of self-loathing.  _ “Anything.” _

I’d given up what I was, ignored the problems festering in the wake of my mistakes. For what? Those problems had caught up to me eventually. I might as well hunt down the rest of them before the found me. It was time to own up to my mistakes, to stop hiding from what I’d done. From what I’d been.

I groaned and turned back, knelt and placed two fingers on the floor. Beneath the wood, deeper, there was the threads of power. Not a ley-line, but close.  The power was darkened, it tasted like blood in my mouth.

Could I still do it? I didn’t know.

There were no words for what I did next. It was a push, a pull, a movement of thought, the strength of will, old as time, older. But when I opened my eyes, when I touched that vein of power again, it was cleaner, like pure water. 

I stood up and sighed.  _ Weak.  _ I walked over and started to push the bones of the body back into place. I found oil and started to drench the room with it. Lit a match, and left. The wards would keep people away for a little while, enough time for the body to burn. And magic’s first child was always fire.

**You did the right thing.**

I know, it feels odd.

**Let’s go home.**

Good, idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be making this a series? I have other stuff to finish before I end up doing that though. Also, if anybody wants to know stuff like Blackcat's background or how she joined the Feds or stuff about Logan and Jacob I might write stuff for that.   
> Thanks for all the Comments and Kudo's! You guys are awesome!


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